Velma jumped at the sound. “Brek, stop. You don’t need to hurt him.”
Brek ignored her.
“Brek. Let the guy go.” Chelsea sounded decidedly pissy that her date was taking time to defend Velma’s honor.
Honor that Velma was perfectly capable of defending herself with a strategically placed knee to the douchebag’s fly.
Brek ignored Chelsea, too.
“She’s a lady.” He got right up in the guy’s face. Deep down, Velma knew this wasn’t going to end well.
“Velma? Are you okay?” Heather shoved through the small crowd forming at the entrance to the hallway.”
“Velvet, let’s go.” Claire stood right beside Heather.
“Seriously, you have to stop.” Velma moved forward, but Brek stopped her with a furious glare.
Or, you know, she could just wait here.
Brek waited a beat and turned his face back to the squirming drunk in his grip. His nostrils flared. “I said, she’s a lady. You get that?”
Brek’s fingers still wrapped tight around the drunk’s throat, the guy nodded.
Sheesh, someone was actually going to get hurt. “Brek, you have to let him go,” Velma said with as much conviction as she could muster.
Brek ignored her, his face maliciously close to the other guy’s. “We need to talk more about how to treat a lady?”
Drunk dude’s eyes bugged to cartoon status. He shook his head.
Brek released his grip and patted him on the shoulder like they were old friends. “Then we’re done here. You okay, V?”
Velma shoved her hands onto her hips. No. She wasn’t okay. “I’m fine.”
Now free, the idiot made an attempt at a drunken fist, and, holy crud, he lunged at Brek. Velma pushed Brek out of the way.
A wild swing grazed her cheek. She dodged and fell to the floor with a very unladylikethunk. Pain radiated up through her shoulder.Crud, that hurt.
Brek twisted back to the guy.
Oh no. With the murder in Brek’s eyes, drunk guy didn’t stand a chance.
“Well, shit,” Chelsea said under her breath.
Before Velma could scramble to her feet, Brek had him pushed up against the wall again. “I guess the lesson wasn’t finished.”
Claire and Heather flanked Velma, pulling her backward.
“Brek. No,” she said with a gasp. “I’m okay. He didn’t hurt me.”
Too late. Brek raised his fist, and it connected to the other man’s face with a sickeningthud. Blood spattered across the wall and onto Brek’s shirt. Drunk guy whimpered and slid to the ground.
Brek cussed a string of creatively combined curses. He curled his fist around the guy’s collar and yanked him back up. “You need more schooling? Or we done here?”
“Done,” he whimpered.
Well, thank goodness for small miracles. At least one of them was finished.
“What the hell?” the bartender yelled, pushing through the group of people. “You with this guy?” He glanced from Brek to Velma.
