I smile tightly at him. His eyes search my face before dropping to my hands. They tighten as they land on my wedding ring but widen when they move to my right hand. He snatches up my wrist.
“What the hell happened, Tiggy?”
I try to tug my wrist out of his grasp, but he doesn’t let go.
“Nothing. Just an accident.”
“An accident?” His voice is flat, and I flinch at his tone. I hear the disbelief. Hell, Iseeit in his posture. I was a social worker for long enough to understand. He thinks Seamus did this to me, that Seamus hurts me, and I am lying to protect him.
Well, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Yeah, I might not have picked Seamus to marry, but he has never hurt me. Plus, my life isnoneof Ant’s business.
“Yes,” I snap at him, tugging at my wrist again. “A car accident.”
Ant’s eyes snap back to mine, darkening possessively. “Hell, Tiggy, you were in a car accident? Are you okay? You should have called me.”
Uh, he does remember me dumping him, right? I gape at him, tugging harder against his hold. He still doesn’t release me. If anything, he holds me tighter, his fingers digging into my skin. I wince, my breath hissing between my teeth as a sharp pain shoots through my wrist. Ouch. He needs to let go. Now. Maybe I should stomp on his foot or something?
“I’m fine, and why the hell would I call you? Let me go. You’re hurting me.”
I have no idea if he would have let me go on his own, but when long fingers close around his wrist and squeeze, he yelps, releasing me.
“What the fuck, dude?” Ant snaps at up Seamus, who is towering over him, his face promising pain. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“Everything my wife does concerns me.” Seamus’s voice is lethally cold, and Ant visibly swallows. “You don’t come intomyclub and lay hands onmywife. Connor,” he snaps, never taking his angry eyes off Ant’s face, “take Tiggy to my office and wait there.”
Connor’s hand closes around my upper arm, but I hold my ground, glaring at Ant. This was a long time coming, but I bet it will feel good.
My left hand snaps up, cracking across his cheek. He gapes at me in shock, and even Seamus and Paddy seem surprised. I let Connor lead me away. I was right. That felt amazing.
Paddy and Seamus manhandle Ant out of the club as Connor steers me through to Seamus’s office, his hand loosely cupping my elbow. I don’t want to think about what they’re going to do to him, but a small part of me feels a little satisfied.
Ant never treated me that well. Maybe he deserves what is coming. My wrist is still throbbing where he wouldn’t let me go. Hell, he totally deserves what is coming.
SEAMUS
We take out the trash to the back alley. Paddy grabs him by the throat, shoving him against the metal dumpster. There is a clang as his head connects, and Paddy sinks a few punches into this gut. The weasely fucker bends over, gasping for air.
“Name?” I growl, lifting his head by his black hair and slamming my fist into his face when he doesn’t answer immediately. There is a satisfying crunch as his nose breaks.
“I won’t ask again,” I warn him, and he whimpers. Fucking pussy.
“Ant,” he gasps, struggling to catch his breath between being winded by Paddy’s blows and having his nose out of commission and pouring blood from mine. “Ant Gresham.”
Paddy slams him back into the dumpster by the throat again so I can see his face.Ant. Fucking suits him. A little crawling insect about to be crushed under my foot.
“And what business did you have in my club tonight, Ant Gresham?”
If my voice wasn’t cold steel, you could almost mistake this for a casual conversation.
“Bachelor party. A friend’s,” he groans, still struggling for breath.
“I see, and what business did you have touching my wife?”
He looks terrified as I drive a fist into his stomach. The moment he doubles over, Paddy straightens him, slamming his head back against the dumpster.
“You talk, or you die,” Paddy hisses. The weak prick pales. I think he might piss himself.
“She’s my ex.”