A laugh bubbles out of the other one standing far too close to me.
“Your father did. Yes, he certainly learned.” The strung-out Lion tilts his head again, studying my reaction. I don’t give him one, instead I pay attention to his words, both of their actions and proximity.
I won’t let them hurt me again. I won’t let them hurt myfamily. If they leave here, they will. And I can’t allow that. I haven’t survived this long just to be terrorized. The adrenaline that’s running through me turns into something else entirely. It’s not nervous energy any longer. It’s survival. Protection. Because one thing is for certain, I will not freeze this time. This time, I’ll fight.
And everything after that decision, is a blur. A movement from behind the man leering so close to my face, draws my attention away. Before it even registers, I hear a crack and then a blood-curdling scream. The man who crowded behind me is down.Michael. He moved fast, stepped behind the Bear, and kicked out his leg with what must have been powerful by the sound of the shrieking.
The knife that rested on my chin slices at my skin. Deep. I feel blood pour from my face as I lurch back. I touch my chin, but it’s too painful. As I look up, I see the man with the bloody knife look toward Michael. And I snap.You won’t hurt anyone else.
Remembering what I’ve learned from Mac in self-defense, I crouch low and drive my shoulder into his gut, knocking the wind out of him, and my momentum works in my favor. I run forward. Moving at full speed and we don’t stop until we hit something hard, likely the wall. He yells and I sprawl. His hips hit the floor first. Then his ass. My body laid out flat, chest down, hips on the floor. Toes curled so I can pop up fast. And I do. I lift up and drive my elbow into his groin. His shirt lifts just high enough that I can see that his stomach has already been peppered with bruises. Perfect. A paint by numbers guide to where I need to punch.
I have no idea if Michael is okay.Please let him be okay.But I can’t look around, my focus needs to stay solely on the man I’ve managed to get to the ground. I slam my elbow and fist repeatedly into his Monet of blacks and blues. He barks out a yell, and moves his arms to get me to stop. But that’s my opening to attack where I need to.
Bad move, asswipe.
I turn my body and sit on top of him. With his head now uncovered, I drive my fingers into his eyes and push. He screams and flails, trying with whatever he has left in him to get my body off of his. But I don’t budge. My legs are locked onto him, and I keep driving my fingers inward. A blood-curdling scream escapes him. Or maybe it’s me, but I’m not stopping until he stops moving.
I don’t know when it happens, but I’m being lifted off him from behind. I keep screaming.
“G! Baby! Baby, I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” a deep soothing voice shouts in my face.
Henry.
I can finally focus. Henry.
“Henry,” I cry out.
He drapes his body around me as my chest heaves. Looking at my face, he moves the hair from my eyes as I sit cradled in his lap. I don’t know how I ended up here, but I don’t care. I grip onto him. He rips his shirt off and holds it to my chin, where I can still feel blood flowing. It hurts. Burns. My teeth chatter, keeping time with the rest of my trembling body.
I hear the screeching of tires from the front of the building, but I don’t want to look anywhere other than at him. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” he keeps saying. “I have you. I have you. You’re safe, baby.” He keeps the shirt pressed firmly to my chin, his strong, comforting arms wrapped around me. I still can’t take in a full breath, my chest cramping as I shake uncontrollably.
A movement over his shoulder catches my attention. Black shirt, dark hair, bloodied face. The lion. He moves toward us, his knife pulled back, cocked and ready to do damage. “Henry! No!” I scream.
I hear Bea shouting from the front of the room at the same time. Henry looks back and sees what’s coming. He drapes himself over me, squeezing me tighter against his chest, trying to shield my body from what’s happening around us. I can’t see anything with my face buried against him.
Muffled grunts and yelling agents get louder. With the popping off of gunshots, I’m pushed backwards farther and forced to the ground. Henry’s full weight on top of me now, unmoving. My heart stutters.
“Henry! Henry!” I try to push him, but he’s heavy. I can barely move him. “Fuck, baby! Talk to me!” I can’t see his face, with his head buried in my neck as he grips me. I don’t know what hit him. What knocked us down. No, no, no, no, no, please be okay. “Baby, talk to me!”
I can’t lose him.
“I got you, Pixie,” he says in a whisper. “I’m fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me.” He coughs as he sits up, never letting me go, taking me with him. He pushes the hair out of my face and tilts my chin back.
I can’t do anything other than look around his face. The white scar on his upper lip, one green eye, one green eye swirled with blue, scruffed beard, furrowed brow. It’s all there. He’s okay. I thought for just a second he wasn’t. That something terrible had happened.
“You’re okay. You’re okay,” I keep repeating, tears pouring from my eyes. He smiles and pulls me closer, kissing my tear-soaked lips. I wince, because it hurts. “I thought you were shot, or that knife hit you in the back… I just thought—” I can’t even finish without crying harder.
“Look at me. Look at me, Pixie.” Henry leans his head lower to meet my eyes, so I’ll stop freaking out.
I take in a ragged breath and stare into those perfect swirls of my favorite colors. “You can’t be anything other than okay. You hear me, Henry Riggs.”
“I hear you. I’m okay.” He looks around the room and yells for a medic to come over. “Fuck, you’re bleeding badly.”
I touch my chin, the pain from being sliced on the face barreling through. I finally take in the room around me.
I see Michael sitting hunched over on the floor, talking to an agent. A lifeless body next to him.The bear.Michael saved our lives. He just reacted. He was a complete force. He usually rolls his eyes at me, and most of the time, vacates the room when I enter. But he didn’t leave. He didn’t hide. He fought for me. The man just killed someone to keep us both safe. I hiccup a cry.
Medics come into the space, followed by Sheriff Muldowney in plain clothes, who’s speaking in hushed tones with Bea and another agent. A few minutes later, Bea rushes over as she barks orders at three additional agents who are already taking pictures and laying out the crime scene. My shop. The heavy drapes are pulled closed, keeping the aftermath away from prying eyes that might be walking by Hideaway Ink tonight.