She lifted her gaze to mine.A storm of emotions swirled there -- gratitude, confusion, maybe even alarm at how fast I had moved and how close I’d come to violence.She had seen exactly what I had been ready to do.
My hands trembled.I glanced down and noticed the shake for the first time.Rage and adrenaline needed a target.A bar towel gave me one.I grabbed it and wiped along the counter, too forceful, too focused, trying to burn off energy before the urge to punch something took control.
Marci watched for several seconds, unreadable.She already knew the darker parts of me existed.Now she’d witnessed them up close.A few wrong words or a step backward from her and I would be standing here alone, knowing I had scared her off.
“Ace.”
Her voice stopped the shaking more than the towel ever could.I looked at her and braced myself.
She didn’t recoil.She didn’t flinch.She lifted her hand slowly, her fingers hovering over my forearm before she rested them against my skin.Light touch.Warm touch.No fear.
Relief hit hard.
“Thank you,” she said.
A hundred responses fought to get out -- she didn’t owe me thanks, she deserved safety, I should have stepped in sooner -- but none of them came out.She already knew what I wanted to say.Her eyes reflected complete understanding, no words needed.
“If he ever --” I began.
“I know.”Her soft tone didn’t hide her strength.She squeezed my arm gently.“I know.”
The noise of the bar washed back in.Maui watched from his stool, serious and steady, ready if I needed backup.Ravager and Rebel had pushed halfway out of their booth at the start, prepared to drop a man without hesitation, though they settled now the threat was gone.Most of the customers hadn’t noticed a thing.
Before tonight, Marci had seen the protector in me -- someone who locked doors, scanned windows, learned escape routes.Tonight, she saw the part of me I rarely let out unless someone crossed a line.The part delivering consequences without hesitation.
She didn’t step away from the revelation.
Her hand remained on my arm for a moment longer, both of us holding still in the middle of the noise and chaos.Her touch steadied me more than the whiskey ever could.The tremor left my hands.The rage faded to something manageable.
A part of me wanted to close the distance between us, to shield her using my body rather than just my presence.Another part understood timing mattered.She needed to stand on her own feet again before I touched her.
The next customer waved for a drink, and Marci pulled her hand away to take the order.Her smile wasn’t perfect yet, but real enough to show she was coming back to herself.
I watched her walk toward the other end of the bar.Her steps still held a faint shakiness, but she kept moving.She didn’t hide behind me.She didn’t stop working.She didn’t collapse.
A survivor stood in front of me, not a victim.
Maui leaned closer when I approached to refill his glass.“Handled clean.Handled fast.”
I didn’t respond.
“You did good,” he added under his breath.“Better than breaking the guy’s wrist in front of half the county.”
I still didn’t respond.
His next words landed heavy.“You’re in deep, brother.”
No argument came to mind.He was right.
I was in deep enough to risk fights I shouldn’t risk, to rearrange every part of myself to keep her protected, to stop seeing the world in general terms of threats and see it in specific terms of who might touch her again and how to stop them.
Nothing else mattered.Not tonight.
Across the bar, Marci brushed her hair behind her ear and laughed.The sound gripped my chest, then released every knot inside me at the same time.
She was still here.Still working.Still breathing.Still safe.
That was enough for now.
