JAMES
THIRTY-NINE
She doesn’t need saving, she doesn’t need defending, and she definitely doesn’t need the brand of attention I have.
Stephanie could lead a holy man to sin. That’s my conclusion given her ability to not only have me out at a bar when we’re trying to lie low, but singing a duet from Grease while showing off purple sparkly nail polish.
That’s right, sparkly. It wasn’t enough to color them; she needed to make sure they shone.
But the genuine smile on her face? The one that says she’s forgotten about all the bad shit that has happened to her? Worth it. I would give my left kidney to keep gifting her that. I’m obsessed.
We finish the song and hurry off stage, where we’ve drawn a little crowd who are basking in my torture.
She sips her third beer and chats with anyone and everyone, being the social butterfly who thrives in a crowd. She has everyone under her spell, and she doesn’t need to lift a finger to do it.
I can understand why her being secluded from society, tucked away for years for her safety, would be damaging to a woman like her.
Hunter did it to protect her, and it was the right decision, but not for the extended period.
Looking back at how she handled the night my boss stole her, shows how strong she already was.
She looked death in the face and winked.
She stared evil down and smiled victoriously because, despite everything, she still believes in some innate goodness in humanity.
“So how’s that higher power faring on a night like tonight?” I ask when there’s a lull in the people wondering about the unfamiliar beauty gracing their local bar.
She blinks. “Not bad. Feels like we were born to sing up there.”
I nod. The jealousy still stings. People who believe in a higher power, in a bigger plan, can face the end with their head held high and without flinching as the devil circles them.
“Why bring that up?”
“I was just thinking about how you face moments that would break others.”
“You’d be surprised. Many think they wouldn’t survive when looking from the outside in, but our innate desire to live makes us stronger in those moments.” She takes a sip of her beer. “I mean, you’ve done it. Haven’t you?”
“Now that’s complicated.” She waits patiently for me to give her more.
I sigh. “Being brought up in a world where religion was twisted to manipulate and control women and children, where I was taught those same skills, makes me cynical about a higher reason behind anything because it’s been tainted.
The truth is, I don’t think I know enough to make an informed decision about God. ”
She hums to herself before spinning around on her seat. “I need to pee. Be right back.”
Before I can say anything, she’s off toward the back of the bar. I keep my eyes glued in her direction, nerves twitchy. For all the so-called fun we’re having, being out in the open like this is still unwise.
“Hey there.” I don’t turn at the familiar voice coming up alongside the table. “You ready for another drink? Or maybe you’re thinking…”
It’s impossible to miss the innuendo. This woman has been laying it on thick since the moment we arrived. I thought I’d made it pretty clear that I’m not interested.
“I’m fine.” I still don’t look at her, hoping she’ll take the hint. I need to focus on Stephanie in an environment full of variables. And I’m not interested in the bartender, let alone anyone else here.
“You know, maybe we could—”
“No.” I have to cut her off. This is getting ridiculous. “I’m not interested.”
Stephanie comes out of the bathroom, and the blonde scoffs. I don’t care if she’s pissed at me. I tried the polite way, and now here we are. Listening to the sound of her stepping back to the bar, I narrow my eyes when someone walks up to Stephanie.
I can’t hear what they’re saying, but my stare zeros in on the proximity. He’s close to her. Too close. Stephanie recoils just a bit, her expression polite enough but uneasy. I know that look. I’ve seen it on countless other girls when they’re wildly uncomfortable with the man in front of them.
I’m out of my chair before I realize it, starting a slow amble their way, my ears straining to hear them. I just catch the guy saying, “You sang real pretty up there. I’d love to hear more.”
The words are harmless—it’s the tone, one I’m familiar with.
Men who think they deserve whatever they want, and my blood runs cold.
The muscles all through my body tighten.
I’m ready to end the conversation now. There’s no need to play it out, pretending like the creep might turn out to be a gentleman.
Stephanie shakes her head, saying something I can’t hear. She turns her body toward our table in a clear sign she’s trying to exit the conversation.
And then he grabs her arm.
I move in less than a second, eyes set on the patron, murderous intent flaring. But before I get to her, Stephanie pulls her hand back and launches a fist right into the guy’s nose. My steps falter. Did she really just do that?
My question is answered quickly enough when a howl cuts through the bar. The guy grabs his nose, cursing, and I step up behind Stephanie.
“Alright. I think it’s time to go.” I glare at the creep, putting my hands on Steph’s shoulders to pull her back. “You’ve made quite an impression. But the lady has commitments elsewhere.”
“His ass has a commitment with my foot.”
Scoffing, I haul Stephanie away, turning to her. “That’s enough. We need to—”
“My fucking nose! You’re not just going to…” As the man’s voice trails off, I peek over at him, meeting a shocked stare. “James?”
Fuck. This is the last thing I need.
“James? Is that you? Why the hell do you have your—”
“Wrong guy.” I don’t add more, needing to get the hell out of the bar. Now.
My heart is too loud in my ears. I watch almost from a distance as Steph squares up with the creep again, her hand rising again. She’d lay this guy out if she had her way. That’s a terrible idea, considering we’re meant to lie low. This was all a terrible idea, and it’s about time we leave.
“Alright, wildcat.” I sling Stephanie over my shoulder, carrying her toward the exit while she yells at the guy who recognized me. That was an issue I wasn’t counting on at all. I don’t think Stephanie noticed. She wouldn’t be causing a scene if she’d heard the guy.
At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.
“Put me down, you caveman!” Stephanie pounds on my shoulder as I march us out of the bar and to the car. “James! Stop! Let me at that asshole!”
I’m not listening to her pleas. She almost started a bar brawl. So much for keeping our heads down. “Quiet.” I spank her ass, which is so very available to me right now, making Stephanie yelp.
In hindsight, carrying her like this was a poor idea. But I was trying to get her out of there fast. Now I’m thinking of things that really need to stay off limits.
But she’s not going back and fighting that guy, so I spank again. Harder.
It hits me when she groans, her squirming stopping. That sound is not what I expected to hear. Though maybe I should’ve. It doesn’t change the fact that Stephanie clearly liked it, and my cock kicks against the inside of my boxers.
Dammit.
Clenching my teeth, I get us back to the car and put Stephanie inside. We’re going home. Now.