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“Fuckin’ hell,” Jury said, pulling me back. “Grocery store parking lot coulda gone a whole different direction.”
Judge got close to the man, and I worried he’d kick him, too. My canvas slip-ons had done enough damage, I didn’t even want to think what shitkickers would do.
“‘Ey,” Hollywood called. “Save some of that, you’re gonna need it.”
“What the fuck now?” Judge asked.
“Glitch just got something. N is doing pickup.”
Judge must’ve known what that meant because a smile spread across his face, menacing and twisted. Wrapping an arm around my shoulder, he started walking before stopping.
Releasing me suddenly, he spun back and kicked the man in his side twice. “When you piss and see blood, remind yourself what happens when you fuckin’ touch,” he leaned down to roar, “what’s mine!”
Then, like nothing had happened, he curled his arm around my shoulders, holding me so close I had to take shuffling steps. He lifted his chin to a security guard and Rhys—who, I belatedly noticed, had been blocking the entrance to the hallway.
Well, there goes my shot of ever coming back to see a concert.
No sooner had the thought crossed my mind did Rhys give me a big, dimpled grin. “Come see me if you want a bouncer job, darlin’.”
Relieved I wasn’t banned for life, I shot him a dingusy smile and wave over my shoulder as I rushed to keep up with Judge’s purposeful strides.
Once we got outside and away from the building, he stopped and spun me so I was facing him. Gripping my forearms, he leaned down so his face was level with mine.
Before he could say—or yell—anything, I spoke in one long, breathless rush. “I’m sorry, that was stupid of me to walk away given all the shit that’s happening, and I’m really sorry that you had to punch someone because I read that it hurts the puncher almost as much as the punchee, and how did you know I was there?” I finished on a wheeze before inhaling so deep, I nearly choked.
“Buncha drunk chicks ran up to me at the bar.”
Bathroom BFFs to the rescue. They’re the best.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated because he still looked scary angry.
And scary hot.
Psycho hot.
“Don’t be. You’re not used to needin’ a chaperone to take a piss. Just play it cautious from now on.”
I got the feeling he was being a lot more understanding than he felt, but I was also being a lot calmer than I felt.
I was zipped up on adrenaline along with still being boozed up on, well, booze.
He scanned my face and down. “You good? He hurt you?”
I nodded then shook my head. “I’m fine. He was just a douche.”
Jury approached, waving a bottle of pineapple vodka. “Rhys said you’ll probably need this.”
I took it, clutching it to my chest. “Thanks.”
“You earned it,” he said, walking to catch up with the others.
I tried not to feel proud, but I did. That it was a woman who’d hurt him would likely bother the douchebag long after the pain had disappeared. Hopefully he’d think twice before treating someone like that again. It was doubtful, but I could still hope.
Judge looked to the side, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that was criminally hot. “You comfortable with Scythe?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I answered with zero hesitation.
Based on the way he plastered my front to his side and dropped a kiss to my head, my answer had been the correct one.
