“I highly doubt that.” I slide closer. I don’t want to spook him too much, but I want to get closer to her. “Also, to be fair, I haven’t fucked her. Not yet anyways, but when I do, she won’t ever think about you again.” I smirk when his eyes pop out at my comment.
His hands fall from her body, as he turns toward me. The point was to get his attention on me so Prue could get away, but she doesn’t move. She stays pressed to the wall. Her eyes haven’t left me, but they are miles away. I doubt she is aware of what is happening around her.
Disassociating is probably the best thing for her to do right now. Let her mind block out this situation with something pleasant. I know firsthand how helpful that can be. If you block out the hell around you, it makes it easier to pretend it didn’t happen in the first place.
“Do you really want her that bad? You have access to models, porn stars, fucking Abbey Dark.”
“Abbey is Wes’s girl.” I shrug.
“Like you don’t share.” He rolls his eyes. “Why are you so into what’s mine?”
“Prue isn’t yours.” I laugh. “And what can I say, I like a good challenge.”
“I’ll give you that much. Prue is a fucking challenge, that’s for sure.” His eyes dart back to her. I use this moment to move closer. “But she is mine.”
“No. She isn’t. I really think you should leave now.”
“I’m not leaving until she puts on that fucking dress and comes with me,” he yells into her face. She flinches, but her eyes don’t stray from me.
“Okay,” I say, moving even closer. I’m right next to her now. Her ex glares at her, nostrils flaring, as she continues not to look at him. “Hey, Prue?” I speak softly. Her eyes regain focus at the sound of my voice saying her name. “Can you go put on that dress for me?” She blinks, processing my words. “I’m going to have a nice chat with this prick and make sure he knows better than to ever lay a finger on you again, okay? So go put on that dress while we talk?”
Her body doesn’t move, but her lips tremble. Tears begin to drip down her face again. I wish I could let her know I’m lying. That there is no way I’m letting her go anywhere with this guy ever. That I just want her far away from this situation. I need her out of harm’s way. But I can’t really say that. I just hope she knows me better than that.
“Prue!” he shouts, slamming his fist into the wall beside her head.
I can’t stop myself. I jump forward. Grabbing his shoulder, I push him backwards, before slipping into the space I create between Prue and him.
His body mass is a little intimidating, I’m not going to lie. All that bulk is hard muscle. It makes my body ache prematurely. The rage is vibrating off him right now and I’m reminded that he hurt her. Just by touching him, I know he is a serious threat to my wellbeing. He must have done quite a number on her. That thought makes my anger double.
“You don’t want to defend her. She isn’t worth it.”
“Listen, fuck face. I’d defend any woman from the likes of you. It’s just a matter of if I kill you or just castrate.”
“I’d like to see you try.” He shoves me.
The force sends me back against Prue. I can feel her jerk as she hits the wall behind her. A small gasp escapes her lips and my hands ball into fists on pure instinct.
When my fist connects with the prick’s face, just below the cheek bone, he is stunned. Stepping back, creating some much-needed distance between him and Prue. I don’t think he expected that much force from someone my size.
I reach behind me, gently moving Prue to the side, urging her toward the nearest door. She sticks to the wall, not moving. Her eyes are no longer on me. Instead, she looks at him with a level of fear I really don’t like.
He rubs his cheek, glaring at me. I keep my composure calm, but my heart is pounding in my chest. I’m not happy about this situation. Part of me wants to hit him again. Then not stop until he is a fraction of the man he thinks he is.
Taking a step toward me, he flexes his own fists, as if he is trying to intimidate me. Outwardly I act unimpressed, but I’m aware that any hit he lands is going to hurt. But being hurt has never stopped me before. Getting my ass kicked was once a daily occurrence. My body has learned how to take a beating, and I’d be damned to die at the hands of a guy like him.
I raise my fists, letting him know I’m not about to back down.
His lips curve up, as the glare turns into amusement.
“You’re going to regret that.” His eyes drift toward Prue, but I move, staying in his line of sight. He doesn’t get to look at her.
“Not likely,” I reply.
“Fine,” he shouts, causing Prue to flinch behind me. “But you should know this isn’t going to end well for either of you. All you had to do, Prue, was join me for an evening of fun. Instead, you want to run around with this piece of shit.” His hand waves to me, as if his insult could even bother me. “You will both live to regret this.”
“Touch her again and I will fucking end you.”
He laughs, shoving his hands in his pockets. Strolling toward the door, he holds his head up high, like he somehow won the fight when I was the only one who landed a punch. When the door slams shut behind him, the walls rattle from the force. I turn to look at Prue.
