She had to fight the urge to drive her knee into his groin. The muscles in her leg had tensed as if preparing to deliver the blow, but she forced herself to take a breath. Escalating the situation further would only make it worse.
“Nate, I need you to listen to me,” she said, keeping her voice soft and her eyes pleading as she tried to placate him. “Maggie is going to come looking for me any minute. Just let me go… please.”
“When I’m finished saying what I have to say,” he sneered, his face close to hers. She tried once more to step back, only to be pulled against his chest. “You think he cares about you? He’s isolated in his fancy house and probably hasn’t had a woman look at him twice since his accident. You’re convenient, Sadie. That’s all you are to him.”
The words hit like a physical blow, each one aimed at her most profound insecurities. That, despite all the evidence to the contrary, the people in her life only wanted her around when she could be of use.
“I’m trying to save you from making a mistake,” Nate continued, one hand releasing her wrist to grip her chin so she couldn’t look away.
“The only mistake I made was staying with you as long as I did,” she snapped, and his face turned red.
It didn’t register that he had shoved her until she slammed into the glass table behind her, sending it tumbling to the ground along with her. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the courtyard, and she reached out to try to catch herself so her face wouldn’t hit the cobblestones.
She came down hard on her side, her hip absorbing most of the impact as pain radiated down her leg. When her forearm hit the ground, a different kind of pain registered in her mind. Thisone was sharp, almost stabbing, and a loud cry escaped her. She had landed in the glass left behind by the table shattering, and one of the few larger shards had cut through her sweater and embedded itself in her arm.
The door that led to the pub flew open almost immediately. Corbyn appeared first, and Sadie saw his body instantly go taut when he saw her on the ground. His jaw tightened, and before either could say a word, he moved quickly between Sadie and Nate, shoving the other man violently back with his right hand.
“Touch her again...” Corbyn warned in a tone that would have made her afraid for Nate’s safety, were that possible.
Maggie appeared at Sadie’s side, offering her a hand up and taking care around the broken glass. Reaching out, Sadie took the other woman’s hand and slowly stood, trying not to grimace when her bruised hip protested the movement. Maggie wrapped an arm around her for support, and Sadie cradled her injured arm to her chest. She could feel the blood oozing beneath her sleeve, and her breath became ragged.
Fergus and another man, whom Sadie only knew as one of the pub regulars, had followed them. Fergus stepped up next to Nate, massive hand gripping Nate’s shoulder as he said, “You’ve made a big mistake coming here, mate.”
“So this is who’s been keeping you so busy, Sades?” Nate taunted, trying to look smug as he stared at Corbyn. She could hear a hint of fear in his voice. “Tell me, Pearce, how long has it been since you actually published anything worth reading? Three years? Four? Must be nice having someone around to make you feel like you still matter, given that face is the only thing people talk about now.”
Sadie wasn’t sure if Nate’s insult landed as intended, but she felt her own body tense. She took a breath, ready to defend Corbyn, but the strange man spoke first.
“I wouldn’t say another word if I were you,” he said, and Sadie saw him produce a black wallet and hold up what appeared to be a government ID. “I’m Police Constable Jones.”
Nate went pale; the man’s badge and identification card finally penetrated his rage-clouded mind. His eyes darted around the courtyard as if seeing it clearly for the first time—the witnesses, the shattered glass, the bloodstain that was spreading on Sadie’s sleeve. This time, no amount of fake charm would spare him.
The constable turned toward Sadie, eyes softening with pity. Heat rushed into her cheeks, and she looked down at her feet. She could already hear all of their unspoken thoughts. How long had she allowed this to go on? Why hadn’t she left sooner? They were the same questions she asked herself every time she thought of Nate.
“Miss,” he said softly, and Sadie forced herself to meet the constable’s eyes, “would you like to make a formal complaint?”
She could feel four pairs of eyes fixed on her. The only person in the courtyard not looking at her was Corbyn, and she realized his glare was still locked on Nate. She wanted to vomit, her body starting to tremble as the reality of what had just occurred settled in. Maggie’s embrace was the only thing keeping her standing, and for a moment, she had to look away to blink back tears.
“It’s your call, Reed,” Corbyn said, without looking at her after she hesitated.
After spending so many weeks in Corbyn’s study, she knew that tone. It was the same one he had used days earlier when he counseled her not to let Nate pull her back into his orbit, not when she had come so far. It became easier to breathe as her body slowly relaxed against Maggie. She blew out a slow breath, straightening her spine as she glared at Nate. He had come here to try to get her back, to try to make her believe she was alone.What he hadn’t counted on was the fact that the people here had taken her in as one of their own.
“I just want him to go back to New York,” she told the constable. “If he leaves, there’s no need to file a complaint.”
“Come on, Sades, don’t do this,” Nate pleaded, that tender look returning to his face. He tried to take a step toward her, but Corbyn blocked him, countering the movement. She watched as Nate was forced to look up slightly so he could narrow his eyes at Corbyn. “This has nothing to do with you, Pearce.”
“But it does,” Corbyn countered, leaning forward slightly and forcing Nate to shrink back. “You are not fit to lick her boots, and if you ever come near her again, I will move heaven and earth to make sure you regret it.”
“Time for you to go, mate,” Constable Jones added, and Fergus gave Nate a slight shove in the direction of the door. Looking back at Sadie, he said, “We’ll make sure he leaves, miss. And if he shows up here again, don’t hesitate to call and make a complaint.”
No one else moved as Fergus and Constable Jones herded Nate through the door to the pub. It was only once it closed that Corbyn finally turned to face her, his expression immediately melting into concern. He took a step closer, Maggie giving them space as he gently took hold of the arm she was cradling against her chest.
“You’re bleeding,” he murmured, his brow furrowing as he examined the wound.
“I’ll live,” she managed, her voice shaky as she tried her best to give him a half smile. Her forearm throbbed, warm blood still seeping through the torn fabric, and she knew she would have an ugly bruise on her hip come morning.
“Let’s get you inside,” Maggie said, taking charge of the situation. “That cut needs bandaging.”
Sadie hissed as she took a step, her body protesting the movement. When Corbyn took hold of her uninjured arm to steady her, his left hand coming to rest on the small of her back, she felt her breath catch. She glanced over at him to try to assure him that she was fine, but the way he was looking at her with a mix of tenderness and concern caused the words to die on her lips. No one had ever looked at her like that, and there was a sudden tightness in her chest.
