Bash pointed. “No fucking way is that starstruck groupie legit. Tell me you were stoned, high, or drunk as a skunk when you signed on that dotted line. Because no way would you do that. She’s nothing more than a cheap fuck. A mistake?—”
Her head whipped at that comment, stunned he would say such a thing.
A throaty growl ripped from Ash’s throat. “Fuck you.”
“It’s all over the papers.”
Bash launched himself at Ash. The punch to Ash’s face knocked him to the ground. Skye tried to run to Ash’s side, but Noodles grabbed her and lifted her off her feet. She twisted, clawing at the tattooed arms of the man holding her.
“Goddamn it, woman,” Noodles said. He dragged her back toward the plane and called out to Bent, “Help me out.”
Bent cursed, “This is a fucking shitstorm. No groupies on the plane. That’s the rule.”
Noodles breathed down her neck as he dragged her back.
“Let me go!” she cried out.
Bash and Ash pummeled one another while Ash’s bodyguard, Sam, made no move to intervene.
This was definitely not what Ash had been expecting, and it was time someone brought order to this mess.
She gritted her teeth, changing tactics. “Put me down, or I’ll press charges. And, trust me, you don’t want to mess with me.” And she didn’t care what Forest would say about keeping a low profile. She’d take these guys to the cleaners.
Noodles was smarter than he looked, or maybe there was just enough crazy in her voice to make him worry. He released her and took a step back, lifting his hands up and out. Even the imposing Bent didn’t move as she rushed to the fighting men.
Her life wasn’t in danger, but Bash was beating the crap out of Ash.
There was only one choice.
She jumped Bash, applying pressure to a nerve bundle in Bash’s neck. Two seconds later, he was out cold.
Ash looked at her, his mouth gaping. “What did you do?”
She rolled Bash into a recovery position and aligned his airway. “Don’t worry; he’ll come around in a minute.”
Sam, who hadn’t moved while the men were fighting, rushed forward. She felt more than saw the large man barreling toward her and braced for impact.
Ash stepped between her and Sam, stopping his advance. “Skye’s a doctor.”
“She knocked him out!” Sam exclaimed.
Sure enough, Bash coughed with the urge to breathe. She lightly placed her fingers over his neck, feeling for his pulse. When his eyes popped open, she gave him one of her biggest smiles.
He blinked, dazed, as circulation returned to his brain.
She spoke slowly, making certain he understood every word, “I’m going to let you get up now, but if you even think of touching Ash, you and I are going to have another talk.”
Bash started to move, but she pressed on his sternum, rubbing her knuckles against his chest. He gasped at the pain of sternal pressure, something she used in her job to determine the responsiveness of comatose patients.
She had his full attention now. “Do we understand each other?”
Bash coughed. “What the fuck did you do?”
“You’re going to be a bit unsteady for the next couple of minutes. I suggest you take it easy. Don’t be surprised if you need help walking.”
She made a quick assessment of Ash’s injuries, but other than a bloody nose, she didn’t see any major damage. “You could pinch your nose,” she said to Ash. “You know, to stop the bleeding?”
His gorgeous eyes regarded her with a mix of emotions—desire, affection, relief, plus something stronger that she wasn’t willing to admit. He dutifully pinched the bridge of his nose to stem the flow of blood.
