14. Chapter 13
Chapter 13
AJ
M y spot at the bar allowed me to see Blake and the rest of the dining room. I ordered a coke with a lime wedge; it looked like a drink, so I fit right in.
Blake didn’t look like she was having a good time, but that was none of my business. I chuckled as I caught sight of Fuckface’s t-shirt again. He tried to get a rise out of me by proudly displaying the words, “Violence is never the answer,” stretched over his thick midsection. Did he really think I’d react to a t-shirt?
I understood him being upset about getting dropped to his knees, but I wasn’t the enemy. You’d think he’d let it go after learning Blake had a bodyguard. Because her life is in danger .
But no, he needed to make it about him.
I laughed. If he wanted to pretend he was a victim and tell everyone who’d listen I’d committed some violent crime against him, he could.
What I did to protect Blake wasn’t violence.
He has no idea what real violence is.
I did. I’d experienced it firsthand. The senseless violence, committed under the umbrella of war, leaving innocent bodies dead in the streets, and the necessary violence of my job, which left human traffickers and abusive exes dead on the floor.
Like the trafficker who’d taken Meg to exact his revenge, and the drunken ex who threatened Emily and her parents at gun point before beating them.
“Violence is never the answer.”
Sometimes, violence is the only answer.
At least Paige’s shirt was subtler, and she didn’t look pissed off to see me.
I was sitting close enough to hear snippets of their conversation during lulls in the room volume, but mostly, I relied on reading Blake’s facial expressions and body language.
She’s not having fun.
I could see the tension in her shoulders under the cream-colored snug sweater she wore. It wasn’t low-cut, but it emphasized her ample breasts none-the-less. It hung low, drawing my eyes to her ass, framed in shiny black leggings. She had curves in all the right places. I had to drag my eyes away as I’d walked behind her.
Nope . I adjusted myself on the stool and scanned the room. Get your head in the game .
Blake tensed when a pretentious-looking guy approached the table. I stood, ready to pounce, no longer hiding the fact I was watching them.
He created a ruckus when he pulled the chair out too quickly and a bag fell off. If he damaged Blake’s laptop…
Fuckface complained about his bag. That was fine; I didn’t care about his shit.
The guy was singularly focused on Blake as he prattled on, either oblivious to or ignoring the fact she didn’t want him there. I didn’t have a reason to act, yet, so I clenched my fists and waited.
Blake’s strained smile was like a bat signal. I stood poised, ready to strike the instant she gave the word. She hadn’t, but she clearly didn’t want to talk to this idiot.
Get a clue, dumbass . I worked my way towards the table, appearing calm and controlled. Two words in complete opposition to how I felt.
Things would go much better if he’d leave without me having to step in.
Then he put his hand on Blake’s shoulder.
Seeing her flinch, I decided I didn’t need words. No one touches her.
I closed the remaining distance at lightning speed, grabbed the guy by the wrist, twisting it as I pulled him away from her.
He cried out as I released him with a push.
“Blake, are you okay?” I turned just enough so I could see them both, my body positioned between them.
“I’m fine,” she answered, irritation and gratitude sharing space in her expression.
“Who the fuck are you?” the guy asked with as much bravado as he could muster while looking up at me.
We both knew he wouldn’t challenge me.
“Her bodyguard.” Fuckface’s voice dripped with disdain.
I should learn his name . Nah, Fuckface suited him.
“Sorry, Stan,” Blake apologized, though she shouldn’t have. He was the one who should be apologizing. I considered forcing the issue, but it wasn’t my place, so I let it go.
“No worries.” Stan, not that I gave two fucks about knowing his name, leaned on the back of the chair and asked her out. Like I wasn't still standing there.
Discomfort radiated off her. How fucking self-absorbed was this guy that he didn’t notice? And why weren’t her friends stepping in to help her?
“I, um, don’t think that’s a good idea right now.” She glanced at me.
“Him?” he asked, ignoring my death stare and looming presence. “Ditch him,” Stan said with a smile so slimy it’d make a used car salesman look honest.
“I can’t,” Blake answered without looking at him.
“Time for you to go, Stan.” I shifted, so I was between them again.
Stan tried to step around me. “Blake?”
Dude wasn’t used to hearing the word no. I shifted, blocking his access. He didn’t deserve to be in her presence, let alone look at her.
“You should go,” she whispered from behind me.
He looked at me before saying, “Fine. Whatever.” Blake's shoulders relaxed as he stormed off.
Ignoring the looks and comments from her friends, I asked Blake, “Are you ready to go?”
“But we haven’t finished lunch yet,” Paige said, sounding nervous.
“I’m not hungry anymore,” Blake answered.
“But you said you’d buy us lunch,” Fuckface whined.
I really don’t like this guy . My gut told me he was using her, and I didn’t understand what Blake saw in him. As far as I could tell, he was an awful friend and a leech. I wonder if he’s ever asked her out .
“Right, sorry, Danny.”
Knowing his name wouldn’t stop me from calling him Fuckface.
She reached into her purse, pulled out her wallet, and put some cash on the table. At a quick glance, it looked like enough to cover all three lunches and another round of drinks.
“It’s raining. Can we get a ride back with you?” Fuckface asked.
Blake’s eyes flicked in my direction; her silent plea for help loud and clear.
“I’m sorry.” I had to stop myself from calling him Fuckface. “That’s not allowed.” I was happy to take the blame, so she didn’t have to.
“We’ll go out when this is all over. Okay?” Blake asked. I hated how sad and small she sounded. Fucking assholes.
“Okay,” Paige said. She wasn’t nearly as bad as Fuckface. I had a feeling he intimidated her, because she’d looked apologetic a few times, but her expression always changed after looking at him.
Fuckface fit him perfectly.
“Fine. As long as he doesn’t come.” He straightened out his shirt, so I’d be sure to see it.
Ignoring the movement, Blake said, “Bye guys, I’ll call later.”
“Bye,” they said together.
I took Blake’s backpack and shouldered it, grateful she didn’t argue.
I opened the door for her and instinctively put my hand on her lower back. It was a move we used with clients to control their movements. But that wasn’t the only reason I did it—I wanted to stake my claim for everyone to see.
She didn’t pull away, and her warmth bled through the sweater to my hand.
I am right and truly fucked .
I had to find a way to get her out of my head because she’d never go for a guy like me. Blake Davenport hated everything I stood for, everything I was. And she had every reason to be afraid of me.