“You got it.”
I moved to pass their table and head back to the beer tubs when a hand snaked out and grabbed my upper arm. Hard.
Looking up, my gaze flicked up to the hardened lines of Bryce’s face. By the smell of his breath he was drunk.
“Let go!” I pulled my arm back, but he didn’t lessen his grip.
“You didn’t like my gift?” he growled.
When the fuck did he get here?
“Ow.” I tried to pull back again—the skin of my underarm was getting pinched between his fingers— when a tattooed blur streaked past me and plowed into Bryce, who released his grip and flew backwards.
“She said let go, you fuckin' punk!” Ethan’s voice was deadly. Bryce was laid out on the ground, Ethan hovering over him, breathing in and out deeply.
“We got a problem, boys?” Mickey shouted over the music and reached for something under the bar counter and I instinctively knew it was a gun.
Bryce stood, brushing off his pants and squared his shoulders. There was venom in his gaze. “Just having a little chat with my wife.”
Motherfucker.How dare he come in and try to ruin this new job for me. My eyes flicked to Ethan, whose face was slack with shock, but only for a moment before it was once again replaced with a cool and deadly calm.
“Ex-wife,” I growled.
Mickey rolled his eyes. “Take it outside!” He’d deemed our little spat as a non-issue, something for which I was grateful.
Ethan took a step closer to Bryce. “You wanna do that? You wanna step outside with me?”
Oh fuck.
I beat him within an inch of his life, played out in my head over and over.
Bryce had an ego the size of an elephant. Even if it would kill him, he would never back down to Ethan. Did I want Bryce out of my life? Yes. But did I want my hottie felon landlord to wind up in prison for life over me? No.
I stepped in front of Ethan. “I’ve got this.” My voice didn’t shake, something for which I was very proud.
“He hurt you.” The veins in Ethan’s neck were bulging, fists clenched. I felt like I was witnessing Bruce Banner trying to talk down the Hulk from coming out.
“I know, and if he does it again, I’ll cut his fucking throat out,” I growled. I didn’t mention that I didn’t have a knife, nor did I think I was capable of cutting someone’s throat out, but it sounded badass and it made me feel better.
Bryce grinned. “I love when she gets feisty like that. Don’t you?” he asked Ethan.
Ethan stepped forward again and I pressed my back into him to keep him from getting too close to Bryce.
I pointed to the door. “Bryce, get the fuck outside before I have you thrown out.”
“Only if you walk me out.” Bryce was the master manipulator. When we argued and I tried to leave the bedroom to sleep in the guest room, he would somehow con me back into falling asleep at his side.
“Oh, I’ll walk you out. For the last time, Bryce, I’m walking you out of my life.” I pointed to the door again and Ethan fell back to let him pass.
I wasn’t going to be the scared timid girl anymore. I wasn’t going to be his punching bag. These few weeks on my own had shown me just how strong I was.
Bryce walked to the front door where Colin, our bouncer, opened it for us. “I’m right here if you need me,” Colin said.
He must have watched the whole thing.
Peering over my shoulder, I saw those piercing blue eyes. I knew Ethan was there if I needed him too, and that helped.
When we got outside and the music was dulled, I noticed the black hired sedan that had to be Bryce’s. When he drank a lot, he couldn’t do an Uber or taxi, no; he hired a fucking servant driver like the rich douchebag he was.
