Liam had promised himself he wouldneverbe in this position again. He wrestled himself free and found his feet, backing up. “I really have somewhere to be, sorry.”
O’Malley followed him up, adjusting his black trench coat over his suit, the lights shining off his slicked hair. Liam had never seen him in anything casual. He looked like one of those silver screen Mafia bosses, only without the pull. He was a poser; smoke and mirrors hiding insecurity and hunger that he turned into anger to inflict on others.
Liam had had a brush with it once, narrowly avoiding worse by the evening being cut short, and he never wanted to tempt fate again.
O’Malley clearly had different ideas.
A few of O’Malley’s cronies closed him in from behind and Liam’s heart began to beat faster as he looked for an escape. O’Malley grasped for his forearm and Liam didn’t have enough maneuvering room to pull it back.
“That’s not very nice of you, doll.” He yanked him in close, eyes boring into Liam’s, speaking a hairbreadth away from his lips. “Don’t you remember all the good times we had together? We never finished what we started.”
“Don’t you remember that I told you if you did one more thing you weren’t supposed to in this ring that you weren’t welcome here anymore?” a calm yet curt voice said.
Liam snapped his head around and found none other than the person he’d been searching for rescuing him.
Hart.
He could have melted in relief, but there were still buckets of trepidation flooding his system. Hart didn’t know what he was getting into with O’Malley. The guy might not have the money to put where his mouth was, but he was still plenty dangerous.
“Step aside, please,” Hart said, gesturing to O’Malley’s cronies. “Liam would like to leave.”
Liam was shocked Hart knew his name. The guys behind him looked at each other in confusion before doing as asked. Clearly, Cane’s reputation transcended him.
O’Malley growled, his grip tightening on Liam’s arm and making him wince. “Hey! Who the fuck do you work for, idiots, me or him?”
They wavered on their feet.
“They’re just being polite. Unlike some people,” Hart said primly.
O’Malley let out a nasty laugh. “You might be fucking the boss, but you don’t have authority here, Breaker.”
“Is that so?” Hart asked, looking to the side and motioning to something. “I suppose demonstrations are often the most effective means of proving a point to someone of lower intellect.”
O’Malley finally let go of Liam’s aching arm and stepped toward Hart. “The fuck did you just say to me?”
Hart turned back to face him and looked in the pockets of his suit, not at all ruffled by the bull bearing down on him. “I have some pamphlets on how to better your education. Perhaps they will also help with your vocabulary.”
“You prissy little bi—”
A closed fist knocked the word right out of his mouth.
Liam hadn’t even seen Cane approach.
“The fuck did you just say?” Cane said, repeating O’Malley’s words back to him and looming over his sprawled figure on the ground.
Instead of pamphlets for further education or vocab lessons, Hart had nothing but devotion and a hell of a lot of attraction to give to Cane. The contrast was clear as day, love either blinding Hart or creating a shroud of desire that gave Cane a free pass to act unruly.
Not that Liam was going to complain. O’Malley deserved more than having his jaw unhinged. Cane rammed a steel-toed boot into his gut for good measure like he’d heard Liam’s thoughts.
Hart placed a hand on his bare, tattooed arm. “Cane.”
Magically, it kind of worked, and Cane eased off. Liam needed Hart to tell him what his secret was so he could maybe control King that well too. The two had a lot of similarities. Only King was adorable and cute, and Cane was…Cane.
“You heard what he said to you, sweetheart,” Cane said, playing with one of the many piercings on his face in agitation. “That shit doesn’t fly in my ring.”
“And the demonstration was made,” Hart said calmly. “A wise person said to know when to quit. You shouldn’t beat a dead horse, after all.”
“What if you’re just making sure it’s dead?” Cane asked, innocently aiming another kick at O’Malley’s chest as he was trying to crawl away unnoticed.
