Forcing herself to face the threat, she braced herself and said, “Go home, Rick. I’m not looking for trouble with you or anyone else. I just want to work my shifts and be left alone.”
“Dat’s just too damn bad, isn’t it? I don’ particularly want to leave you alone.”
He stepped in, crowding her back against the door. Before he could lay a hand on her, she reacted, slashing the keys down his cheek, leaving bloody scratches in their wake.
“You bitch!”
Shoving him as hard as she could, Kat spun around and grabbed for her door handle.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t thought her escape through. She’d pushed him with enough force to send him backward…where he bounced back from the truck parked next to her and pinned her between his beer gut and the Celebrity, his hands brutally gripping her hips.
Instantly, the nightmares she’d kept locked away for years flooded her memory and her old defense system took over. She could feel herself checking out, slipping into that dark void in her mind where nothing existed. Nothing bad and nothing good.
Just…nothing.
He’d be able to do whatever he wanted now. Her attempts at protecting herself ended the moment he touched her.
So while her sanity waited in the void, her body would play possum. All that was left was to hope that when the bigger animal was done toying with her, there’d still be enough left of her to drag home afterward.
…
Aiden pushed through the heavy steel door in the back of Lou’s as he lit the cigarette already pinched between his lips. The stifling August heat smacked him right in the face and the humidity was so thick his lungs felt like they took on fluid with every breath. He actually preferred the carcinogenic smoke circulating in his lungs to the swamp water–filled air.
He’d lived in Boston all thirty-two years of his life and hated winter every time it came around. But he was starting to appreciate the idea of a snowstorm over Louisiana’s suffocating summer. Though, he supposed when combined with not having to look his past in the face every damn day, even a hellhole like Alabaster was a step up.
He took a long drag of the cigarette and watched the cherry burn brighter in the dark as it ate its way through the tobacco and paper. It was times like this when he wished he could unwind from the long night with a cold beer. But not a drop of alcohol had passed his lips in five long years, and that’s the way it would stay.
Fridays were always the hardest. Aiden and the other coolers definitely earned their paychecks those nights. He’d had to prevent four fights tonight and that wasn’t including whatever Xander’s count had been.
But, he reminded himself, any night he didn’t have to use his fists was a win in his book. Along with Aiden’s “no drinking” policy had come his equally strict “no fighting” policy. No easy feat for an Irish Southie with a temper, who used to earn his living as a professional MMA fighter.
As he exhaled a stream of white smoke, he heard the mumbling sounds of a conversation coming from the back of the dirt lot. The dim floodlight over the back of the door barely illuminated the scene. He couldn’t make out much more than shadow figures, but one was definitely a female, and judging from the sloppy movements of the slouching silhouette, the other a drunken patron.
Aiden knew some of the waitresses did more than just get some of the customers their drinks. Though he wasn’t fond of the idea, he stayed out of their business, just like they stayed out of his. It was the unspoken law of Lou’s Riverview.
Having no desire to witness anything he might need bleach to wash his eyes out with later, Aiden dropped his cigarette and turned to head back into the bar. Just as his hand grasped the handle, he heard the man shout in anger, followed by the sound of a scuffle, stopping him cold.
He ran toward the couple, counting his strides along the way to remind himself to keep his temper in check. When he got close enough to be sure of what was happening, he clenched his fists so hard his knuckles cracked. Then, when he realized it was happening to Kat, Aiden damn near exploded with rage. His instincts fired commands to his muscles to Superman-punch the asshole into next week, but his brain managed to rein him in just before he lost control.
Instead, he grabbed the guy by his neck, yanked him back, and roared as he sent him flying a good six feet to land in a misshapen heap with a loud thud.
“Goddamn Mullineaux,” he ground out through his teeth. Aiden crossed to crouch by the unmoving hillbilly and felt for a pulse. He was almost disappointed when it came through nice and strong. After moving the guy to the edge of the parking lot to sleep it off, he left to go check on Kat.