"Yes, and Christopher!"His eyes flash with worry and anger as he shoves both of his hands over his head and half-turns."Fuck,Christopher is going to kill him!” He blows out an exasperated breath before flicking his eyes to mine and then down to my hand in Sarah’s. “Uh, who the hell areyou?” He glances sharply at me.
Not willing to let go of her just yet, I take my free hand, holding it out to the stranger. He takes it in a light grip and shakes it abruptly. There's another commotion outside. I flit my gaze down the man's body, arching my eyebrow.
“Dr. Richardson," I reply. "So,who’sBrandon and where is he again?” I purposefully keep my tone nonchalant, yet feeling anything but.
“My name's Jerome," he replies curtly, "and Brandon's her boyfriend. The fucker that didthisto her. He’s out in the hallway with Christopher. The nurses are about to call security.” Jerome's face is pulled tight with barely restrained fury, but I'm out the door before he can even finish saying the last sentence.
I round the doorway and see two young men loudly facing off in the hallway. I don’t know who is who, though, having never seen them before. My steps slow as I take them both in. There's a black haired, stockily built guy, and a taller, blonde man with dimples who looks like he could be a model.
“Brandon?”I call sharply, tilting my head. My gaze flickers between the men.
The blonde-haired man turns first and a sick, hot wave of hate washes over me. I detest a lot of things, but women beaters and pedophiles are always my top two on the list of hates. Anger simmers just beneath the surface of my sanity as I calmly walk up to him, feeling my muscles straining. The need to sink my fist into this man’s face is vicious.
“Sarah’s ready to see you now,” I lie, taking Brandon by the shoulder and maneuvering him towards the door to Sarah’s room. My lip curls at the look of relief on his face.
“Wait!He can’t go in there! Who are you?” The other man I assume is Christopher walks up next to us before pushing into the room before us, putting himself between us and Sarah as we maneuver our way through the doorway.
There's no need. I never intended to let him talk to Sarah anyways. I just want to get him alone to teach him a lesson.
I close the door swiftly behind us hearing Brandon say,“Baby!”and then see the sudden fear on Sarah’s face before reaching forward and clamping my hand hard on the back of this piece of shit’s neck. Tightening impossibly hard. Christopher frowns, and his eyes go wide at my actions, but I ignore him.
I lean into this rare feeling of losing control, ignoring everything but the need I feel to put this man in his fucking place.
Brandon grunts in surprise, trying to jerk away from me, but I move fast, opening the private bathroom door and shoving him in and knocking his head on the wall in the process.
The sickening thump of his head hitting the wall sounds wonderful.
Brandon groans as he rights himself, his hands flying to his head in shock. His gray eyes squeeze shut in pain as a trickle of blood moves down his face from his temple, and I enjoy a momentary delightful prick of pleasure at hurting this man who caused such damage to the woman that's got me turned inside out.
I wish I could slam his head into the wall until his brain leaks out of his skull. But I'm at a hospital and need to have decorum.
“What thefuck,man?!” Brandon yells, turning in the small space to face me with rage in his eyes.
I move fast, sinking my fist into his stomach, doubling him over and stunning him before snatching his hair and yanking his head back. I know my eyes are ice cold as I regard this disgusting, sorry excuse of a human, but right now every derogatory name that's been hurdled my way regarding my looks is worth it at the look of fear in his eyes.
Brandon gags as my fingers tighten hard on his scalp, feeling some of the strands rip from it.
I take a deep breath through my nose. “You like beating up pregnant women who can’t defend themselves?” I snarl down at him. Brandon’s gray eyes morph from fear, to downright terror. “Lie to me.I dare you,”I say roughly.
I see the lie in his eyes before he says it, and it sends me through the roof.
“I didn’t—“
Brandon yells as I pull my fist back and punch him in the face, not hard enough to snap his neck like I'd like to but hard enough to stun him.
I use the momentum to turn him and kick him in the back of his knees, making his legs collapse, and pull him to the toilet where I shove his head in, plunging him into the water inside. Listening to him gurgle for a few seconds, I relish the thought of drowning him before I snap out of it and call out for Jerome. A second later, the bathroom door flies open, and Christopher appears instead, Sarah’s other friend, poking his head in.
His brown eyes narrow as he sees me nonchalantly drowning Brandon in the toilet.
Christopher’s eyes flicker up to mine, and he leans against the doorframe in a relaxed stance with his arms crossed, as if he sees a man being murdered every day. Maybe he does. Hell, I don't know. And if he does, who am I to judge?
“Yeah, man. It’sChristopherby the way; Jerome’s the other guy,” he says conversationally and with a hint of a smile atBrandon’s predicament. “Not sure what you plan on doing with him, butI’mgoing to claim self-defense, just in case anyone asks.”
I nod at the unspoken agreement that passes between us. Brandon’s arms flail, trying to make contact with me, but he's unsuccessful as I work to shove his face harder into the porcelain.
“Give me two minutes and then have the security officers come in here. I should have my point across by then,” I say firmly.
I like to think we’d just shared a brotherly bonding moment, me and this stranger.
