Frozen in my chair, I trembled, fingers clenched around my purse. Panic burst into my chest and pushed me to the edge of hyperventilating.
This can't be happening. No way. Darren was a terrible person but he’d never done anything like this before.
Unfortunatley, the burst of his breath against my face made the assault even more real.
“You owe me, Katy!” he whined aggressively. “For saving you in high school!”
Still in shock, I tumbled off the stool as the man continued groping. A sharp cry left my throat as I fell.
Oh god!
But instead of hitting the floor, I tumbled back against a warm and firm chest. Strong arms wound around my stomach just as the familiar scent of clean, masculine sweat and citrus soothed me.
Alpha Prime was here, thank god.
“Are you okay, baby?” rumbled Nick. “Are you hurt?”
But Nick was calm compared to his bandmates.
“Get the fuck off her!” came a furious growl.
I opened her eyes just in time to see Mason slam his fist into Darren's stomach. The asshole doubled over with a gasping whoosh! leaving his wide open mouth.
“You touch her again and see what happens then,” Nick hissed, yanking Darren's head back by the hair at the same time Mason slammed his forearm against his windpipe. Darren turned purple, staring from one guy to the otherm, eyes going wide as he realized who they were.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” the bartender bellowed, heading towards the scene. “Pierre, call the cops!”
Darren choked. “I can't brea—” He wheezed unable to go on.
Mason pulled his muscled forearm off the guy. “What you can do is get the fuck out of here before we tear you apart.” He shoved Darren away like the touch of the man’s skin disgusted him.
When Mason was done, Trent yanked Darren by the collar of his wrinkled shirt and pushed him toward the door. “Fuck off, you piece of shit.”
Darren stumbled and fell, then clumsily picked himself off the floor as both men stalked toward him with looks that could kill. Pure terror twisted his face when he saw how close they were to trampling the doughy man. He yelped and pumped his doughy legs, scrambling furiously towards the exit.
“Yo, you can’t do that!” the bartender called again. “The cops are coming and you’re all gonna get arrested! I don’t care who you think you are—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Trent cut him off. “You didn’t stop an assault in this bar a few minutes ago. We did. Call the cops if you want but you know that you’ll be in as much trouble as we will.”
The waiter, Pierre, was standing by the phone, hand hovering over it like he wasn’t sure what to do.
I blinked when Nick touched my cheek and brushed his fingers through my long hair. His touches grounded me, bringing me back from the fear that had taken me over when Darren attacked. “Talk to me, Kitty-Kat. Are you okay?”
“I'm...I'm fine. I just...” But I couldn't say anything else. It was too traumatizing. I turned and threw myself into Nick's arms,
clinging to him like I would never let go. “Thank you,” was my hoarse mumble. “You came just in the nick of time. I don't know what I would've done if it hadn't been for you guys.”
“Don’t worry sweetheart.” Mason suddenly appeared and kissed my cheek. “You’re with us now.” His lips were warm and comforting and I sighed again.
Can I just stay here with them forever?
“Come on,” Trent said. “Let's get outta this fuckin' place.” He glared at the bartender and Pierre.
“Pricks,” Trent muttered. “Next time help a woman in distress, yeah?”
The bartender opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing. Pierre merely looked confused because he hadn’t quite seen what Darren had done, and I was too tired to explain.
But it didn’t matter. My three men crowded around me like a protective wall of muscle and guided me out of the bar and upstairs to their hotel room.