“Vodka soda—”
“Extra lime,” Cash finishes my sentence and swats my ass while spinning me in the direction of the bathrooms. The bar has a line of sight to the bathroom doors, and I peek over my shoulder to see him watching.
The hallway is narrow and there’s men and women lining either side. Most of them are just talking rather than waiting in line. I squeeze my way to what I think is the end of the line. As I weasel my way through, I feel a groping grasp of my ass and I whip around.
A white man is there, leering at me, his eyelids heavy with drink. “Did you just grab my ass?” Anger pumps through me.
This man has no idea what I’ve been through these past few weeks—hell, today alone. Some good ol’ groping is just what I need in addition to everything else.
“No.” He pouts, and I return his glare before turning back around. Trying to shake his hovering presence at my back, I angle my back away from him the best I can in the crowded hallway.
Then I feel it again, and venom runs from my chest out to my limbs. I whir back around and jab a finger into his face. “Did you fucking touch me again?”
“Yeah, I did,” he admits, and that venom wraps around my hands as I ball them into fists. “But hey, it was a compliment. You got a nice ass.”
“So you admit to touching me without my consent and lying to me about it?” I shout over the music, people’s heads starting to turn.
“I said it was a compliment,” he sputters like a fucking idiot.
“You touch me without consent, I touch you,” I snarl before I bring my fist crushing into his face. He stumbles back into his friends, who were looking on like useless fucks. I cock back for another one, when a hand grabs my wrist and I spin around to see Cash, his face blanketed with a rage I’ve never seen before.
Lochlan appears out of nowhere behind Cash and slugs Groper in the stomach. He doubles over, and the two of them grab his slouched form by the arms and cart him off to a staff door next to the bar.
Even though I am only seconds behind them, when I enter the staff room, my assaulter is on the ground with a bloody nose and Lochlan’s boot smashing down on his face.
“Stop! Stop it!” I yell, yanking on Cash as he buries a foot into the guy's ribs.
Cash’s head whips around like a rabid dog as he demands, “Did this fucker touch you?”
“Yes, but—”
“But nothing. Fuck off, Harlow, and let us handle this.” His words are like a physical blow. They maul at my dignity worse than the grabby hands of the bleeding man on the floor.
“Get him up,” Cash growls to Lochlan, who drags the barely conscious man to his feet, holding him up with both arms behind his back.
Then Cash punches him with a skilled throw square in the jaw. Then one to the other side. Then the nose, and his head is flying back. When his head lolls forward, Lochlan holds it up by his hair and Cash continues. Right hook, left hook, straight, uppercut. Right hook, left hook, straight, uppercut. The man’s feet are loose and wobbly at the ankles, clearly only standing because Lochlan is keeping him up.
The man makes an inhuman, warbly moan, and I pull on Cash’s shoulders. “Stop, Cash. Fucking stop,you’re gonna kill him!”
“He touched what’smine.”Cash’s growl is equally inhuman, it’s a possessive bark and I can’t see the kind man who held my hand just hours ago. He’s gone, lost in the mad fire in the eyes of the beast in front of me.
“No, he touchedme. AndI’mtelling you to stop.”
“You. Are. Mine.” His voice shakes with anger, and I don’t know how to respond other than shoving him as hard as I can with both hands.
“I am my own goddamn person, Cash! And if you respect me as a person more than your fucking possession, then you’ll stop right now.”
“Fine.” He turns back to the man, whose face is a bloody mess. “You get to live, because myqueenis feeling generous.” I don’t miss the way he spits the wordqueen, like it’s a dirty word.Maybe it is, if he’s the king.“Say thank you to my lady.”
The man garbles something incomprehensible, and Cash squats to get under his sagging head. “I said,say thank you.”
When he doesn’t respond with anything distinguishable—which I’m honestly not sure he’s capable of at this point—Cash whips out his gun, and I scream. “Show your gratitude or fucking eat it.”
Cash holds it to the man’s head, and he sobs. Cash flashes a look at Lochlan, who wrenches the man’s head back up. He shoves the gun between his gasping lips. “Eat it.”
He gags around the barrel, and I’ve seen enough. I take a gamble, praying it fucking pays off.
“I’m leaving, Cash. I’m leaving!” I shout, racing out of the office room. I run into Roman right outside the door and beg him to drive me home.