Chapter 4
Chapter Four
B laze crouches to his knees before me, and there’s a thud outside the door. We both freeze. The sound of approaching footsteps breaks the spell, and we spring apart, panting.
“Shit,” Blaze hisses, his eyes darting to the door. “We’ve gotta go. Now.”
I yank up my jeans and scan the racks, my gaze landing on a long, blond wig, leather pants, and a sequined halter top that would blend in at any dive bar. I snatch them up, shoving them into Blaze’s hands.
“Tuck those in the saddlebags,” I order as I strip a similar outfit from the rack.
Blaze is already unrecognizable in sweats and a ballcap, so I shove him toward the door. “Go. Hurry!”
He leaves, and I change before pilfering for makeup.
Fully dressed, I stride out of the dressing room, head high, hips swaying. I blend right in with the few other early morning stragglers as I make my way to the bar.
The bartender glances at me as I slide onto a stool. The remnant fumes of stale beer and cigarettes cloys in the air, and the floor is sticky beneath my heels. I drum my nails on the scarred wood, feigning impatience. My heart is still racing from our near miss. Every nerve is exposed.
The bartender slides a shot of whiskey down the bar, and it stops right in front of me. I raise an eyebrow at him.
“From the gentleman,” he says, jerking his chin toward the end of the bar.
I follow his gaze and my stomach drops. Not Blaze.
The man is big, burly, with a thick beard and cold eyes. He raises his own shot glass in a salute before downing it.
I push the shot away. “No thanks.”
“Aw, don’t be like that, sweetheart,” a gruff voice says from beside me.
The man is now crowding my space, his breath reeking of booze and cigarettes. He leers at my body, lingering on my breasts beneath the sequined top.
“Didn’t think they let sweet things like you off the stage.” He reaches out to trail a finger down my arm.
I jerk away, revulsion crawling up my spine.
He laughs, a harsh, grating sound. “Feisty. I like that.”
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I grit out.
The lust in his eyes morphs into something darker. His hand clamps around my wrist in a punishing grip. “I’ll touch what I want, you little?—”
A blur of motion, and suddenly Blaze is there, his fist connecting with the man’s jaw with a sickening crack. The man goes sprawling, crashing into a table.
Blaze stands over the man, his chest heaving, his eyes flaring. His knuckles are split, blood dripping onto the already sticky floor.
“Keep your fucking hands off her,” he snarls, his voice deadly calm.
The man staggers to his feet, wiping blood from his mouth. Then he charges with a roar.
Blaze is ready. He sidesteps, bringing his knee into the man’s gut. The man doubles over, wheezing, and Blaze brings his elbow down on the back of his neck. The man crumples and doesn’t get up.
The bartender is shouting, reaching for a phone. Bouncers are pushing through the gathering crowd, trying to get to us.
“Time to go, princess.” Blaze grabs my hand and pulls me toward the back door.