Fuck this shit. I storm out of the bar, keeping my eyes focused on my exit plan and my head down. I don’t need any more attention or trouble tonight. I’ll head home, drown my sorrows in ice cream and my vibrator–that’s suspiciously as long and around as girthy as Ty is– and try again tomorrow to pretend that someone will make me feel as whole as the man who walked away from me.
I’m not that far from my place. I just moved into my own apartment after a few years at Harriet’s. It’s peak location, close to Ashes, close to the bar, close to the diner and therefore, Harriet.
Five minute walk, no problem.
I slip my arms through the worn fabric of my favorite plaid shirt–no comment from anyone about where it’s from, I’m serious– and pull it tightly around my body. If I really, really,really, pretend I might be able to imagine Ty’s arms around me.
I keep my head down, but let that sense I know all women have on high alert for anyone trying to get the jump on me.
I pass by the alleyway before my apartment and I’m almost in the clear, I can see my front door, and two arms wrap around me. One around my waist and one around my mouth, dragging me into the alley.
I can’t… I don’t…Everything stops. I… What do I do?
I do the one thing I never wanted to do in this situation.
I freeze.
“Not so fucking tough now, huh?” The guy from the bar growls in my ear, his foul, beer breath fills my nostrils as my breathing quickens. “Thought I was just going to let you embarrass me like that? I’m the man.I’m the man.You’re awoman, aweakwoman. You’ll do what I tell you to and you’ll like it. Now get on your knees,” he orders, wrapping his hand around my neck so hard I start to pass out.
Why won’t my body react? I’ve fought plenty of men, I’ve… I can’t do anything.
“I’m going to give you one second to get your hands off her, or I’ll put you in the ground so fucking deep no one will be able to find you. Ever.” a dark, accented voice states clearly through the air.
A voice I’d know anywhere.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” The guy holding me sneers at Ty, pulling me to him tighter.
“This was your choice.” Ty lunges forward, his big hands grabbing the arms of my attacker and ripping them off me in one motion like they were made of velcro rather than a human man with minimal muscle. He–stupidly–starts to charge at Ty, even though there’s a good three inches of height difference and Ty probably has a good 25lbs on him, probably more.
My attacker lunges, but Ty’s a pro. He dodges and grabs his arm, twisting it hard behind the guy’s back. Ty throws out a kidney jab and my attacker grunts, trying to absorb the sound of pain that wants to escape.
“Real men don’t show they’re hurting, huh?” I can’t help but snark at him. And it gets his attention. The blonde ass growls at me, baring his teeth like he wants to rip my throat out.
“Is that what he said? That he’s a real man?” Ty asks incredulously, huffing a laugh in disbelief.
“Oh yeah, he’s a real man, and I should be more of a girly-girl and let him tell me what to do. I guess embarrassing him at the bar was the last straw for hisfragile male egoand so he thought jumping me was my penance.”
The moment those words leave my lips I see the absolute rage engulf Ty. He was already mad, already willing to hurt this guy simply for attacking, but now?
Now he was out for blood.
And I find it…erotic.
Ty twists the guy's arm another inch, just enough to make the joint pop. He cried out this time, a sharp, broken sound that made me feel vindicated.
“Any man who feels like they get to tell a woman how to be, is no man at all,” Ty says darkly, voice low and deadly. “You don’t get to look at her. And youdefinitelydon’t get to threaten her and walk away breathing.”
My attacker thrashes, panic finally setting in. “Man, listen?—”
Ty slams him into the brick wall, his forearm pinning him there, elbow grinding into the joint until the guy shakes. Ty’s control is worse than rage—it’s measured, deliberate. And it looks like pure unadulterated death with the face of the man I love.
I can’t let him do something he might regret. I touch Ty’s wrist firmly to try and ground him.
“Ty,” I whisper.
But he doesn’t look at me.
“You’ve made your point.” I step closer to him, my chest touching his side. “If you go further, you won’t be able to forgive yourself.”
