Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
ALEX
A lex: You’re so sweet with the customers . One elderly man walked past me, singing your praises. Apparently, you always go the extra mile to make the regulars feel welcome.
I know she won’t get this until her shift is over, but it’s the truth. As she rushes up and down the bar, where people also order food, she’s got a gorgeous energy that captivates me. Her hair bounces on her shoulders, her cheeks are flushed, and her smile is magnetic.
She walks to the end of the bar during a lull, then, like magic, a text comes.
Tori: Some of them don’t have anything else. It’s sad. I consider it my job to make them feel welcome.
I grin when she looks over at me, playfully waving her phone.
Alex: What happened to not texting at work?
Tori: Rowan has mysteriously lifted that ban… but only for the duration of your stay here. It’s almost like she’s got a specific outcome in mind.
Alex: Any ideas?
Tori: I’m pretty sure she’d want me to ask you…
She puts her phone down to serve another customer, leaving the message unfinished but I know where she was going. I watch her with a smile, barely touching my food. I’m like a moth to the flame; I just can’t help myself.
However, when she asked me about Elliot, that was awkward. I don’t know why, exactly. Or maybe I do. Maybe I want to avoid it like I have for the last two years since the crash.
He’s a good kid. It’s not his fault he reminds me so much of Robin, who was not just my brother but also one of my best friends, a person I thought would never betray me.
I push the negativity away and type a message.
Alex: Tell her that the outcome is me spending as much time at her establishment as possible as long as it means I get to watch you with that gorgeous, magnetic smile on your face.
Another lull, and she walks to the end of the bar, smiling as she heads to the back.
Tori: You make taking out the trash much more interesting than usual.
Alex: I wish I could stay here all day. I need to get back to work soon.
Before I can send the message, she calls me. I quickly answer it.
A voice snarls, “Give me the fucking phone.”
I leap from my chair, causing several people to turn and look at me. I don’t give a damn. I know that voice, even crackling through the phone.
Running behind the bar, I dart through the kitchen, not caring when people yell at me that I can’t be back here. Let them shout.
Nobody gets to threaten her. Not at work, not anywhere.
I burst out of the rear exit to find her boxed in against the wall, three wannabe tough guys standing around her. One of them is Damien, the jerk from Valentine’s night.
“Get the fuck away from her,” I growl. When they don’t turn to face me quickly enough, I slam my hand against the trashcan. “Now!”
Damien turns, sneering at me. He looks mighty fucking pleased with himself. The other two are covered in tattoos on their faces, necks, and hands. They have a strung-out look that makes me think of what Damien said about having connections in Miami.
If Tori’s safety weren’t a concern, maybe I’d think about my job, my patients, and Elliot. What’s he going to do without me?
Instead, I step forward, glaring at the men. “She turned you down, dumbass. What sad game is this?”
“You just said it,” Damien snaps. “She turned me down. That’s the issue right there, you old bastard. Nobody turns me down. That’s the whole point .”
“Damien, just stop,” Tori says, her hands raised in a defensive position.
He turns to her, yelling in her face. “Quiet, bitch!”
I snap without thinking. No one talks to her like that.
My fist catches him across the mouth. He stumbles back. One of the tattooed men immediately takes out a gun and aims it at me.
I freeze, staring at the barrel. Tori has tears in her eyes. Damien wipes blood from his lip and then grabs the pistol from his buddy, pointing it at me. “That wasn’t very smart, was it?”
“Scaring Tori wasn’t very smart, you twisted fuck,” I growl, unable to control my rage. It boils up from something primal inside me: the urge to protect my woman.
Maybe that will seem crazy later. Or I’ll second guess it, but not now, not here. It feels like the most genuine thing I’ve ever experienced.
The other two scumbags exchange a look. When Tori steps forward, they move toward her, and she freezes. She seems annoyed with herself, her eyebrows furrowing almost like they did when she discussed her poetry.
“What if I just clipped you here, old man? Then what? Would you feel big and brave and fucking impressive then?”
“You need to take a breath and think about what you’re doing.”
He pushes the barrel of the gun against my head, the cold metal grinding into my skin. Perhaps there’s a world where I’d let fear dictate my actions here, but all I care about is that sobbing noise Tori is making. That’s the only thing that matters right now.
She is all that matters: her future, her poetry, her life.
“Maybe I’ll give you a choice,” the bastard says. “You can sacrifice your own life and take a bullet for this ungrateful bitch.”
The moment he turns as if to aim the gun at Tori—the second I feel some slack in his grip on the gun—I grab his wrist and wrench it violently. He roars as his bone makes a snap noise, and the gun clatters to the ground. The other men leap at me.
I black out for a moment. In the brief darkness, I see an image of Tori in a wedding dress, her cheeks glowing with pregnancy. Funny the things a man thinks in a life-or-death scenario.
When I ‘wake up,’ adrenaline rushing through me, I’ve cracked both of Damien’s goons across the jaw. They stumble away from me and take off. I spin the second they are gone and leap on Damien when he tries to pick up his gun. I thunder an elbow into the side of his head, running on pure instinct.
“Stop!” Tori yells when Damien tries to stand up.
I look at her. She’s got the pistol in her hand, aiming it at Damien, tears streaming down her cheeks. Despite the obvious stress, she looks strong, ready to pull the trigger if it comes to that.
“You heard the lady,” I grunt, grabbing the front of his shirt and shaking him.
Damien sneers, not seeming to care that his arm is twisted at an unnatural angle.
“Don’t fucking look at her,” I growl. “Who do you think you are, you sick bastard? Did you seriously think I was going to let you hurt her? I’ll never let anybody hurt her, understand me? Never.”
Tori gasps, fear flickering into her beautiful eyes for a moment. It’s like the fear is aimed at me, not Damien. She’s more afraid of my declaration than what Damien tried to do.
“Tori, call the cops,” I say. “And give me that.”
I offer a hand for the gun. As Tori motions to give it to me, the rat chooses his moment. He throws his broken hand at my face, causing me to duck, giving him just enough space to twist out of his shirt and dart down the street.
When I step forward as if to chase him, Tori lets out a sob. It’s enough to make me stop. I don’t want to abandon her. What if the other two return? What if I lose sight of Damien, and he doubles back?
I toss his shirt onto the ground, then take the gun from Tori’s hand. Pulling her into my arms feels natural. But I sense her holding back. It’s as if she doesn’t want me to think this experience has earned me too much affection in her eyes.
She wants me to know she’s still not in this for true love.
“Thank you,” she whispers, pushing against me, distancing herself.
“I wasn’t going to let him hurt you. I’d never let that happen.”
Her eyes glisten, then she turns away as if she can’t look at me when I make declarations like this.
“I need to call the cops,” she says, taking a step back.
I nod. “We’ll both need to give statements. I need to make a call, too.” I tuck the pistol into my waistband and walk to the other side of the alley, taking out my cell.
My nanny, Catelina, answers quickly. “Dr. Whitmore,” she says.
“Hey, Cat,” I reply. “I’m sorry to do this…”
“Would you like me to stay for the night?” she says.
I almost tell her no. A few hours will be fine, but can I really leave Tori now? If I did and those low lives returned, I’d never forgive myself. “Yes, if you don’t mind?”
“No, that’s okay with me, Dr. Whitmore.”
“Can I talk to him?” I ask, familiar guilt twisting in me.
“Who… Elliot, or LEGO-las?”
Despite the mayhem, I manage a slight grin. “Come again?”
“It’s his new name, apparently. He’s not Elliot anymore. He’s LEGO-las, like Lord of the Rings mixed with LEGOs.”
“Classic Elliot. Sorry. LEGO-las.”
“He’s playing a game with his friends. But I can get him.”
I think about Elliot sitting cross-legged in front of the TV, headset on, laughing and joking with his buddies as they shoot avatars on the screen. “No, let him have his fun. Just tell him I love him, and we’ll do something together soon.”
“Okay. Goodbye. Have a good night, sir.”
“And you. Thanks again.”
“The cops are on their way,” Tori says once I’ve hung up.
“Good.”
She chews on her lip and brushes a hand through her hair. She’s clearly shaken up, but she’s trying to be strong. When I open my arms to wrap them around her, she puts her hand on my chest. Her heat blazes against the skin under my shirt.
“We need to calm down,” she says.
“I am calm.”
“You’re burning up. And your heart is beating like crazy. You went… berserk for me.”
“I couldn’t let him hurt you,” I snap. “That was simply not on the table.”
She turns away again, but I can’t stop myself. She’s trying to be numb, closed-off, and maybe I was too in the beginning. But I can’t be a grump when I’m around her. She unlocks things in me no other woman has or could.
Caressing her shoulders, I pull her in for a kiss. She gasps and pushes against me. For a tantalizing moment, she lets her lust and affection burn, sinking into the kiss.
Then she pulls away.
“Alex,” she whispers. “We’ve just had a life-or-death experience. We’re not thinking straight.”
“I haven’t been thinking straight since I first laid eyes on you.”
“Comments like that aren’t making this any easier.”
She half says this, half moans, and it feels like she’s caught between being stern and letting her desire flare.
I’m about to kiss her again when the sound of sirens cuts through the moment.