“Can I get you a drink?” he asked, still holding my hand. “Or maybe a dance?”
“I’m working,” I said, gently pulling my hand back.
“Maybe when you’re not,” he replied with a wink.
I didn’t answer, just gave a non-committal nod to be polite and turned back to the bar. His attention was flattering, but I’d barely made it through the night without quitting…or getting fired. Definitely not the time to flirt.
“Keep movin’, loverboy,” Norah said, nudging him aside. “I’ve got work to do.”
I was heading back toward the tables when an arm locked hard around my waist.
A jolt of panic shot through me—fast and paralyzing.
“How about me, darlin’?” Gus leered, yanking me against him. “Can I interest you in doin’ anything with me?”
My breath caught. For a split second, I wasn’t in the bar—I was back in that penthouse, back in the grip of someone who didn’t care how many times I pleaded for him to stop.
“Let go of me!” I shoved at his chest, but my hands trembled.
“You’re feisty!” he slurred, snickering. “Just one little kiss and I’ll let you go.” He puckered up, leaning in.
“Ew! Get off of me!” I twisted harder, my heart hammering hard against my ribs, but his grip only tightened.
My skin crawled. I couldn’t breathe. I needed him off me—now.
“Hey!” Luke snapped, grabbing for Gus’s shoulder as Norah signaled across the room for the bouncer. “Back the hell off!"
“Stay out of it, McKade,” Gus barked. “This is between me and my girl.”
“I’m not youranything,” I snapped, even though my voice cracked.
“That’s enough,” Luke said, but the second the words left his mouth Gus threw a wild punch, catching Luke square in the jaw. He staggered, more surprised than hurt, but his boot caught on the leg of a barstool, and he hit the floor with an angry, “Fuck!”
That brief scuffle shifted Gus just enough for his grip on me to falter. I twisted to wrench myself free, but he recovered too fast—his hold crushing tight again…until a broad-shouldered blur slammed into him like a freight train.
Andthis guydidn’t waste time talking.
Chapter Eight
Zane
I saw red.
I didn’t know who the woman was or why Gus had his hands on her, but my brother was on the ground, and she’d made it loud and clear his advances were unwanted. That was all I needed.
By the time Gus cocked his arm for another swing, I was already moving.
He never got the chance to throw that fist.
I shoved in between him and the waitress, grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and drove my own punch straight into his gut. He folded with a grunt, stumbling backward into a barstool that toppled out from under him. Luke was on his feet again, stepping in beside me just as Gus’s buddies closed ranks behind him. My knuckles throbbed, but my head was clear.
Gus sneered. “What’s the matter, Luke? Can’t fight your own battles? Gotta have big brother rescue you?”
Luke took a step, but Norah threw out an arm and blocked him. “Enough! All of you! Gus, I think you and your friends have had plenty of fun. Time to go.”
Just when I thought Gus might argue, Trace, the bouncer, appeared and clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Y’all know therules. You fight, you leave,” he said, and shoved him toward the door.
“Damn it,” Luke muttered, brushing off his hat and eyeing the fresh bend in the brim. He turned to me and slugged my shoulder. “Really had that under control, you know.”
