Chapter 9 #2
“She said leave, asshole. So how’s about you get the hell out of her face and stop stressin’ her?”
Mica comes around behind him and doesn’t slow down.
Devon turns just in time to catch a fist to the face from Mica.
When Devon falls back on his ass with what looks like a broken nose, Mica’s hand closes on the front of his jacket and he punches him again for good measure.
Mica’s fists are fast and mean business.
Devon didn’t see it coming because it was just brute force out of nowhere.
Mica looks at him with a blank expression.
Devon tries to shove his hand off, but Mica doesn’t let go. Instead, he leans close and when he speaks his voice is low enough that I have to strain to hear it.
“That’s the preview,” Mica says. “You come near her again and I finish it. Are we clear?”
Devon’s jaw locks. He’s not a small man, but he’s also not stupid enough to test Mica after being laid out on his ass. Finally, he answers, “Yeah, we’re clear,” he says.
Mica jerks Devon to his feet and gives him a big push backwards before letting go of his jacket. While Devon is straightening his jacket, Mica literally turns his back on him. It’s meant as a humiliation, a way of saying he doesn’t consider Devon a threat.
Devon looks at me once, something I can’t quite identify moves through his expression. And then he puts one foot in front of the other and walks away.
Mica picks up a can that rolled across the floor during their altercation and places it back on the shelf.
Glancing over his shoulder, he asks, “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” I say, meaning it. My heart is hammering in my chest, but I grew up in a world where men handle things this way.
I’ve always known what it looks like. What I hadn’t known until now is what Mica is capable of.
If I’d ever thought for a second that he was the weaker brother, he just proved me wrong.
“I still need veggies to go with the steak,” I tell him, trying to sound as normal as possible.
Mica immediately turns and gathers up an armful of miscellaneous veggies and dumps them into my basket.
“There you go. Are we good?”
“Yes. Of course we are. Why wouldn’t we be?”
A hint of a smile ghosts across his face and he wraps one arm around me as we go back to get our meat. We don’t talk about Devon again until we’re outside. Mica takes the grocery bag without asking and puts it into the back floorboard.
“Is this the first time you’ve seen him in person since you broke up?”
I nod as he starts the engine. “Yeah. It freaked me out more than I thought it would. I think he’s been watching me,” I say. “Not in a stalking way. Just paying attention to what he sees and listening to local gossip. Apparently, we’re interesting in some way.”
“Yeah,” Mica says. “It’s because you’re beautiful and I’m so fuckin’ dashing.”
My head turns to look at him. “Dashing? What are you, eighty?”
“No, but I’ll be twice as dashing when I’m eighty,” he deadpans back. “You should stick around for it.”
Somehow Mica’s dry humor always makes me feel better.
“He’s not going to stop,” I say. “He was getting ready to put his hands on me. The only thing that stopped him was you bringing him up short. Nothing I said mattered to him.”
“Yeah, because he’s a fuckin’ absolute nutjob,” Mica responds coolly. “He’s not gonna stop and that’s too bad for him.”
I don’t understand what Mica is talking about, but one thing worries me. “What happens next time?”
Mica glances from the road to me and back again before answering, “There won’t be a next time,” he says. “I’m gonna hunt his ass down and do what I couldn’t in view of the public.”
“Are you going to give him the opportunity to work off his punishment too?”
“Fuck no,” Mica shoots back. “Wait, is that what you want?”
“What? No. I was just curious. Don’t kill him.”
Without looking at me, he asks calmly, “Why not? I mean it’s not my first option, but if I run through my short list and he’s still stalking you, I’m not averse to giving him a permanent lesson.”
“I’m not wild about permanent lessons because I don’t want you to wind up in prison.”
Mica sighs, “Fine, I’ll just maim him a bit.”
“You already did. I think you broke his nose.”
“Yeah, well everyone’s had their nose broken a time or two. He can go get it set like the rest of us.”
I don’t want to continue this conversation, so I point out the obvious. “You’re not driving in the direction of my house. What’s up with that?” What I don’t tell him is how desperately I want to see my own house and sleep in my own bed.
“Clearly, we need to run a tight game until I can deal with Devon. Give me a day or two. Then we can stay at your house all the time if you like.”
That news puts a smile on my face. “Really?”
“Yeah, I give you my word.”
***
The clubhouse is quieter when we get back, the midday energy has settled.
There are a few brothers at the bar. I sit at my usual table with my laptop and fine tune my contract file.
I know there is no way one contract needs this kind of attention, but it’s my very first one and I want it to be perfect.
Mica is grilling our food out back and it smells delicious.
The last I heard he was marinating it in wine.
The Sons are fancy, compared to my family.
Charity moves behind the bar, washing glasses and pulling beers for the brothers. After a while she sets a fresh coffee on the edge of my table without being asked and walks away before I can respond. That seems like her offering an olive branch, so I gratefully accept it.
I notice Bran on my way to the bathroom. He’s near the back hallway, talking to a prospect that I don’t recognize. He’s not doing anything unusual, but I’m keeping my eye on him anyway. It feels like after the confrontation with Devon, my instincts are finally kicking in.
Bran’s eyes move across the room in a casual sweep without stopping on me. I’m thrilled because maybe that means he’s not going to annoy me with his creepiness anymore.
I come back from the bathroom, sit down, and make a note, Bran. Watch.
I glance out the window and see someone’s standing at the far end of the parking lot near the wall.
I don’t recognize the form. He’s just standing with his hands in his pockets.
Still as a statue. I can’t make out a face because he’s shrouded in darkness.
I decide that I’m probably just being jumpy.
It’s probably one of the prospects tasked with guarding the clubhouse.
I can’t imagine how anyone would get inside the walls of this compound.
The Sons’ security is top notch. I’m just tired and the Devon situation is making me see threats where none could logically be.
That’s about the time that Mica comes out with two huge plates of food. I’m excited because no man except my gramps has ever cooked for me before.
We settle down at my table, and I shove aside my laptop to make room for the plate and gush, “Everything looks and smells amazing, Mica. I can’t wait to try it.”
He looks a bit anxious. “My ma always says the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I decided to see if the same thing is true of women.”
I can’t help but laugh.