Chapter 31 Take #2
“Okay,” I murmured, my eyes connecting with Michelle and the women waving me on. But the second I moved to stand, the steel grip of Darren’s hand around my arm pulled me back down. “What the—”
“Stay where I can see you,” he warned, his voice sharpened with that terrifying sternness I hated hearing. “Do not go too far.”
I nodded, my hand reaching out behind me for purchase while my eyes remained locked with his, fearful that the second I looked away again, he’d pounce. But the action was short-lived as Michelle grabbed my hand and yanked me out of the booth.
In a matter of seconds, I found myself swallowed by the swarming crowd, the scent of sweat and alcohol perfuming the air. The women circled me, their hips swaying to the fast beat of the music as they ran their hands down my arms, encouraging me to move with them.
With the drugs now fully influencing my system, it was uncharacteristically easy to let go, to allow my mind to wander away from my guard and focus on matching my body to the rhythm of the bass.
It was all-consuming, the atmosphere surrounding me alive with an infectious energy that had me casting aside all my afflictions and vigilance.
Before long, I was grinding my body against the other women, joining with their movements and surrendering to the drugs swimming through my blood. I could feel myself giggling like a fool at the oddness of feeling so light and carefree.
I danced for several songs, losing track of time and all my accompanying fucks. I hadn’t danced like that in years, and it made me want to relive that feeling until I was so delirious with endorphins I couldn’t see straight.
But then it all came crashing to a halt the second my eyes glanced back toward the VIP section and locked with Darren’s. The way he was watching me, with such dark intensity, with such possessiveness, it made me second-guess myself and stumble back from my group.
That single misstep put me in the trajectory of a large woman rushing through the crowd, bumping me to the side and right into the back of a rather short man.
His shoulders immediately hunched before he turned around with a mean scowl on his face, wearing a dark soaking-wet shirt, and clutching an empty glass in his hand.
“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry,” I said, eyeing the shirt now sticking to his chest. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Watch where you’re going you stupid bitch!” he shouted, then slapped me across the face.
With my head jerked to the side from the force of his hand, I stood there absolutely stunned. My cheek stung, but it was almost laughable compared to the power of Darren’s hand. The drugs had clearly reduced my reaction time since he actually landed that slap, but certainly not my counter moves.
Growling, I reared back and slammed my fist across his face hard enough to throw him off balance, my knuckles smarting from the impact. The slight exertion threw me off balance too, my body stumbling back into place before he regained his footing.
Confused, he tapped his cheek, his eyes widening at the sight of the blood spotting his fingers from where my engagement ring had cut into his face.
“You fucking cunt!” he roared, rearing his elbow back for another strike.
Before it could connect, his fist stopped short against a large palm that reached out well above my shoulder and closed around his hand.
Dazed, I peeked up at the dark looming presence now engulfing my space. But the unexpected shiver that ran down my spine was nothing compared to the heat of the murderous rage blazing in Darren’s eyes as he trapped the man’s fist in place.
Suddenly, an ominous wall of dangerous men rapidly emerged at my back, crowding around me like a massive human shield.
“Hey asshole, let go!” the guy yelled as he tried to pull his arm away fruitlessly, but immediately froze the second he looked all the way up at his opponent.
Recognition caused all the blood in his face to drain away, unmistakable horror reflecting back from his glossy eyes. “Oh shit,” he murmured.
Without sparing me a single glance, Darren wrapped his hand around my waist and pulled my swaying body behind him right into Clive’s grasp.
Snatching me up like a fucking rag doll, Clive quickly whisked me away in the direction of our table, my feet stumbling along to keep up while Owen laughed at my six. Dragging me up, Clive planted my ass back on the couch at our table and pointed down at me.
“Stay,” he ordered sternly and glanced back around at the loud commotion heading our way.
“I’m not a fucking dog,” I muttered with a frown, my upper body wobbling from side to side. Grabbing the back of the couch, I held myself steady as the room spun around me.
The next thing I knew, Darren was slamming my assailant down on top of our table with such force, it creaked beneath him. The velvet curtain was then quickly swung around the booth, closing the area off to the unsuspecting crowd still dancing away just outside.
I glanced across the way at Darren’s business associates who were watching the scene like they were about to see a tiger devour its next meal.
Darren clutched the man by the lapels of his jacket, easily holding him down as he struggled and cursed.
“Get the fuck off me, man! Maybe you should keep your bitch in check next time and she won’t get smacked!”
I closed my eyes and cringed at the sheer stupidity, the guy just digging a much more painful grave by the second. I’d seen plenty of times where they start scared, then try to get tough, then go to straight stupid right before they turn to apologizing and pleading for their lives.
Darren said nothing, his menacing gaze fixed on his squirming prey that he easily kept pinned in place with one hand. He then casually held the other one out to Scott. Answering Darren’s silent command, Scott pulled out a long hunting knife from his belt and placed it in Darren’s waiting palm.
Oh shit.
“Wait! What the fuck are you—ah!”
I sucked in a breath as I watched Darren calmly and slowly bury the knife right between the man’s ribs, his screams muffled by the blaring music beyond the curtain. Ripping the knife out, Darren did the same thing to the other side, puncturing both lungs, and causing the man to howl in pain.
“Stop! Stop! Ah!” he wailed. “I’m sorry! I didn’t recognize her! Let me go! Please!”
In his agony, he jerked his head back and forth, only to stop when he found me sitting in the booth not more than three feet away from him. Desperation wilted his resolve, his eyes pleading for mercy as if I had even a drop of influence in the situation he caused.
I couldn’t even sit still thanks to Darren, and this guy was looking at me like I could save him from a fate he had sealed himself the moment he swung at me.
“Please! I’m s-sorry!” he wheezed, coughing up enough blood to paint his chin red. “I shouldn’t have hit you! I didn’t r-recognize you!”
His gaze held mine as he whimpered, glossy red eyes full of hope that I might somehow stop this. But all I could do was slowly shake my dizzy head at him, merely seconds before Darren’s fist connected with his jaw, turning his head away from me.
“Do not even look at her,” Darren seethed, his teeth bare as the man pleaded underneath him.
“I’m s-sorry! It was a m-mistake!” he wheezed again. “It’ll n-never happen again!”
Darren’s gaze sharpened. “Obviously.”
And then he drove his fist into the man’s trachea—once—twice—and a third time in rapid succession, completely obliterating his windpipe.
With bulging eyes, the man clutched at his throat, gasping for the air Darren had permanently denied him, choking on the final remnants of his fleeting life.
I glanced up at Darren, my unfocused vision incapable of missing the fire in his eyes still blazing with the kind of wrath I had become well acquainted with, as tame as this display was.
I could see the deep satisfaction he took when he witnessed his prey take his final pained breath before his body grew lax against the table.
When Darren turned away, two other men I hadn’t noticed before stepped up and pulled the man off the table to drape his arms around their necks.
They dragged him away from the curtain as if he were just another drunk patron being tossed from the bar, his dark shirt concealing the blood underneath it.
Without looking back, Darren’s gaze landed on me, the dark possessive look in his eye locking me in place.
Scowling, he sat down next to me only to reach over and lift me into his lap to straddle his hips.
He then glanced back over my shoulder, prompting Scott to immediately usher everyone out of the booth until it was just the two of us behind the privacy of the curtain.
With everyone gone, Darren’s eyes softened slightly as he sighed, his hand taking my chin and turning my offended cheek for his review.
“I hope you enjoyed your time out there,” he murmured, his gaze focused on my skin. “Because it’s never happening again.”
I frowned as I pulled away. “What? Why? Because of that?” I asked, my voice an obvious whine in my drugged-out state, my body unsteady as I pointed in the direction behind me.
Darren’s jaw tightened as he slowly dragged his thumb and forefinger along my cheek.
“No. Because it’s too damn distracting,” he answered. “I could barely keep my eyes off you.”
I huffed a laugh at the compliment, but shook my head at the consequence of it. “But I was having so much fun.”
“Only because I drowned out your inhibitions with drugs.”
“This time,” I emphasized.
“The last time,” he countered.
I sighed in frustration. “You know, you’re really being a buzzkill.”
He sat up more, clutching my upper arms. “That’s not the only thing I’ll kill if you don’t heed my warning,” he rumbled, his gaze darkening.
My shoulders slumped in disappointment, but Darren remained unaffected by it, steadfast in his ruling. “Maybe this could have been avoided then,” he added, running the pad of his thumb along my offended jawline.