Chapter 2 #2
Her eyes were huge in her face, and she looked freaked out, but nowhere near ready to defend the man who she’d arrived with.
Wiping his hand on his shirt, doing his best to get some of the blood off it, Whip crouched in front of the woman. He didn’t try to touch her, didn’t offer his hand to help her up. She probably wouldn’t want to be touched right now. Especially by a big stranger like him.
“You okay?” he asked gruffly.
She stared at him for a beat, then licked her lips and nodded.
A sound behind him had Whip looking over his shoulder. Seems as if the asshole had a harder head than he’d thought, because he was attempting to sit up.
Standing, Whip went back over and grabbed a fistful of his shirt and lifted his torso off the floor as he leaned down and got in his face.
“Real men don’t hurt women. Any women. They protect them from assholes like you.
She wasn’t doing anything but minding her own fucking business and trying not to fall asleep.
It’s more than obvious she doesn’t want to be here, not that you give a shit.
You’re going to leave and never come back—and never put your hand on her or any woman ever again. ”
“Or what?” the man said, turning his head and spitting out a mouthful of blood.
Whip sneered and violently threw the man back down, his head making a satisfying thud as it hit the floor. “Or you’ll have to deal with me,” he threatened.
“I’m not scared of you!”
“You should be,” Whip told him, then looked at the men still standing around. “Get him out of here.”
“Don’t know ’im.”
“He’s not with us.”
“Didn’t meet him before tonight.”
Whip wasn’t surprised his new buddies weren’t throwing down for the asshole. He looked back at the man on the floor. “Get up and get the fuck out of here. Now!”
Standing between the bleeding man on the floor and the fairy behind him, Whip crossed his arms, letting his muscles coil menacingly, and watched as the man struggled to his feet. He swayed and caught himself with a hand on the side of the nearest pool table.
Whip heard shuffling behind him, and he turned just enough to see the woman he’d defended, in his peripheral vision. She’d stood and now had her back to the wall, looking extremely uneasy.
“Come on, Angelica. We’re getting the fuck out of here.”
“She’s not going anywhere,” Whip told him. “You are.”
“Fuck you! She’s my wife. She’s coming with me.”
“And I said she’s not. Go home. Sober up. Get your head out of your ass and realize what a fucking treasure you have. And if you put another hand on her, you’ll be goddamn sorry.”
The man turned his glare on his wife, then turned and limped toward the door.
Whip relaxed a fraction. “Anyone else have anything to say?” he barked, as the men around him continued to watch.
Apparently, no one did, as they turned their backs and continued their pool game as if nothing had happened.
Turning slowly, Whip looked at the fairy. Instead of being relieved, as he’d hoped, she looked completely freaked. Her pupils were dilated, and she was biting her lip nervously. Her gaze went from him to the door and back, as if she was considering going after her husband.
“Don’t,” Whip bit out. “Let him sober up.”
“It’s not going to matter.”
It was the first time Whip had heard her voice—and the sound went straight to his dick.
It had been a long time since he’d wanted a woman as badly as he wanted this one.
But she was married. And he might be an asshole, but he didn’t fuck around with married women.
No matter how adorable they were and how turned on he was.
Whip had a moment of regret for what he did.
Not for the man, fuck him, but because the woman was right.
He’d definitely made things worse for her.
He knew that from experience. Her husband would be defensive and pissed off and would probably take out his anger on her, whether it was tonight or sometime in the future.
Fuck.
“Name’s Whip. I own this place. Come on, you can catch your breath in my office. You can use the phone to call someone to pick you up if you need to.” He held his arm out, hoping she’d take the hint and start walking toward his office.
She didn’t move.
“Angel?”
The name popped out without thought. He’d heard her husband call her Angelica, but that didn’t fit her at all. But Angel? Yeah, she was a fairy fucking angel.
“Um…okay,” she finally said, stepping forward woodenly.
Whip walked in front of her, pushing people out of the way when they didn’t move fast enough.
He had enough of a reputation that his customers didn’t fuck with him.
Relieved they’d managed to get to his office without incident, he quickly unlocked the door and pushed it open, then stepped back, giving her space to get by him.
“I’m going to step out and make sure he’s gone.
Sit. Relax. There’s a fridge against the wall, help yourself to a beer, or water, or whatever.
On the house.” He saw her shiver, and anger went through him all over again.
She probably wasn’t actually cold, but more like reaction was setting in.
Stress. “There’s a sweatshirt on the back of the chair.
Put it on. I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes. ”
She looked at him, then into the office, then back at him, as if still considering leaving.
“You’re safe here. I might look scary but I’m not going to hurt you.” Whip did his best to keep his voice gentle, when all he wanted was to growl and threaten violence against anyone who dared fucking touch her ever again.
It was irrational, and he didn’t like the feeling one bit. It meant he wasn’t completely in control, and that was alarming.
Finally, she nodded, looked at the floor, and stepped past him into the office.
It took more effort than Whip would’ve liked to leave her alone.
He shut the door, locked it so if any other asshole got it in his head to fuck with her, he wouldn’t be able to get inside, then headed for the door that led out to the parking area.
He needed to make sure the dickhead Angel had arrived with had actually left, then he was closing for the night.
It wasn’t quite two yet, but fuck it. If he wanted to shut shit down, he would.
Then he and Angel were going to have a talk. Figure out what to do. Because he felt responsible for her, and for the first time in ages, he wasn’t upset about the abrupt change to his routine.
She was married, probably terrified of him, but that wasn’t going to stop him from helping her. Angel was like the feral cats he cared for behind his business, the ones he fed and built shelters for. Skittish and wary. Wanting help but not knowing how to ask for it.
Lucky for her, she didn’t have to ask for his assistance, he was going to give it to her freely. He might never see her again after tonight, but it wouldn’t be because she became a domestic violence statistic. If he had to, he’d bankroll a new life for the woman.
Whip didn’t know why he would go to such an extreme for someone he didn’t know, but a feeling deep inside him was screaming that she’d be worth every ounce of effort he put into keeping her safe.