I walk away, thinking to myself,Well, that’s probably the most normal exchange I’ve had with another person in weeks. Maybe I will call him.
I’m running late.Somewhere along the line, I just lost track of time and now I’m rushing to get to work. Ihateit when I’m running late. Especially since I started to work here.
Usually, someone’s there before me. One of the security guards usually. I’ve asked the girls to stay in their cars if the doors aren’t open as a precaution, but there have been more than a couple of times that I’ve pulled up a few minutes past when I’m supposed to be there and seen them meandering around in the parking lot. The club isn’t in a bad neighborhood, but still. You can’t be too careful.
I pull up into my parking space in the front just as dusk is settling in. We open in thirty minutes. I’m going to have to get a move on…
Wow. No one is here yet. I stand by my car and glance around the parking lot as I walk up to the front door. Junie’s not even here yet. I check my phone real quick. Well, I’m notthatlate, but?—
A short burst of muffled screaming grabs my attention. I look up at the front door and noticed that it’s partly open.
I don’t even think. I run toward the door and the closer I get, the more of a struggle I hear. The sound of shoes scraping and a man grunting… I push the door all the way open. The house lights have been turned on. The chairs are still on the tables. And Natasha is lying on the ground with a man on top of her, his hands around her neck. She struggles, her mouth open in a strangled scream as she digs her nails into his wrists.
Carter glares down at her with fury in his eyes, his mouth twisted in rage. “You fucking bitch!” he growls as he squeezes.
“Get off her!” I yell as I rush over and grab him by the shoulders, putting all my weight on his back. He tilts to one side, letting her go briefly. She gasps for air as he reaches around and grabs my hair, yanking my head back.
He twists himself around and pushes me back hard, sending me to the floor. My head bangs against the hard linoleum as he turns back to Natasha. She swings at him, arms flailing as she continues to cough and gasp for air.
“I’m gonna kill you!” he yells. His fist comes up and connects with her face. A sickening thud fills the air. I get back up, scrambling over him and grabbing him by the back of his short, greasy hair. He shakes me off, pushing me back down to the floor. I land on my side and in the shadows, I see Junie lying on the floor by the bar, unconscious or dead. I can’t tell.
He grabs her around the neck again and this time, her eyes roll up and she kicks her legs. He’s going to kill her if I don’t do?—
He’s hit on the side with a chair. It swings on an arc, colliding hard with his shoulder and sending him toppling sideways and off Natasha.
“Grab him. Hold him here,” I hear behind me. I look over my shoulder and see Roman standing over Carter, the discarded chair lying to one side. He glances over at me and starts walking my way. Behind him are his men—one of them is the one with long hair who’s always at his side. His brother, I think. His eyes light up as he balls his fists and stalks over to Carter with the others flanking him.
Roman kneels down next to me and helps me to my feet. “Wait,” I say, pointing to Natasha. She’s half in and out, her head lolling listlessly. “Natasha?—”
“Don’t worry. She’ll be fine. I’ll take care of everything.” He gives his brother a look. Their eyes connect and he nods. Roman escorts me out.
“Are you all right?” he asks me as soon as we’re outside.
“I… I’m okay.” I rub a sore spot in the back of my head. “Just got my bell rung a little, I think.”
He looks me over, genuine concern on his face. “You sure? You need to go to the hospital? I can have Ares drive you after?—”
“I’m okay. Natasha and Junie?—”
“He’ll check them out and take them if they need to go,” he says. “The situation’s handled. I promise. You know that guy?”
I nod. “He’s Natasha’s ex. Has a history of being abusive to her. Last year, he put her in the hospital.” In the back of my mind, I know I shouldn’t be saying all this, but I can’t help it. The words are just vomiting out of my mouth. “I should have done something. She called me earlier today because he threatened her?—”
“He called her. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I… I was going to, actually.” He looks away from me, toward the door, and suddenly, I realize what’s about to happen. “Roman, you’re not going to hurt him, are you?”
“I just walked on an intruder attacking two of my employees and tried to kill one of them. What do you expect me to do?”
I blink at him incredulously. “I don’t know. Call the police?”
He scoffs and says, “This ex-boyfriend. He do any time for what he did to her?”
I’m speechless for a moment. “He… he did a few months. The judge went easy because it was a first offense?—”
“Then why the fuck would I call them?” He leans into me, his ocean eyes burning into my soul. “We call the police. They put him away for violating his parole. Let’s say they throw the book at him and he gets twenty. Good behavior, he’s out in ten, maybe fifteen years. Probable five if he has a good lawyer.”
“What’s your point?”
