Page 23 of Throw Down

“I told you. I don’t dance.” Derek’s voice was a low growl at that seemed to resonate with the deepest base notes of the music.

“It wouldn't be gay or anything.They're all standing in a line for cripes sake.There are plenty of guys out there.” With his heart thrumming a triple-beat, Briar leaned closer and let the full weight of his gaze press into Derek.Wanting to push him out of his comfort zone, eager for it, he whispered, “Or is it that you just don’t want to dance with a guy like me?”

Something flickered across Derek's expression—something familiar.His face was so harsh that it always looked like it had been hacked out of a slab of granite, but for a fleeting moment, Briar swore he saw a crack in the stone facade.There was a man underneath...a man who looked as lonely as he was.

But just as Briar was deciding whether his reaction was the best or worst thing to ever happen to him, Derek’s attention shifted toward the bar.His body had tightened up as soon as Briar got close, but now every muscle bunched in alarm.

The boisterous laughter at the bar had mutated into loud, angry voices that were growing impossible to ignore.The crew from the Triple M was still there, clumped together behind their boss.Michael Whittaker stood protectively in front of his crew, stance wide, facing off with two men.

Briar recognized the men instantly, and his fight-or-flight response kicked into high gear.Flight. It was always flight.

Ronald Sutter and Wade Guthrie were everything he'd been afraid of when he moved to a small town.They were big and rough and mean.Proud of their reputations. Proud of their ignorance. He’d had to call the cops on Sutter once after the man had picked a fight with West Owens inside his clinic.Ever since that day, he made sure to duck and run whenever he saw him coming.

The music was too loud to pick out their individual words, but their faces were twisted into ugly sneers.

Whittaker stood between them and his crew, shoulders squared.West had one hand on the back of Whittaker's neck, as if he were trying to soothe and restrain him at the same time.

Derek’s younger brother was like a less interesting version of him.His coloring was average. His angles were softer.It was almost as if Derek had gotten the strongest dose of their family genetics, and his dramatic size and bone structure had been diluted by the time it reached his youngest sibling.But he had a friendly, trustworthy air about him that Derek never would.

Right now, West's cheerful face was strained.His eyes were worried as they darted around the crowd, probably searching for Eli, but the sheriff was nowhere to be found. Derek met his brother's eyes.West gave his head a subtle shake, and Derek's eyes narrowed.The next thing Briar knew, Derek had shoved back his chair and was already halfway across the room.

Briar scrambled after him.

“Derek—” He reached out to catch his elbow, certain he was about to make a bad situation worse.Derek ignored him, brushing off his restraining hand like Briar was made of dandelion fluff.For all his size, Derek moved quickly when he wanted.Those powerful legs got him across the floor in record time.Every inch of him radiated a silent menace that had the uneasy crowd parting around him.

Briar held back, heart thumping with fear.

Derek's broad shoulders blocked his view for a moment, but when West's face reappeared, it was twisted into a complicated expression that looked both resentful and intensely relieved.

Envy smacked Briar right across the face.

West didn't know how lucky he was to have someone like Derek watching out for him.Just knowing a security net was there—knowing he wasn’t alone—Briar couldn’t imagine how safe that must feel.People underestimated how tenuous physical safety could be, but Briar had grown up with a keen understanding of how vulnerable he was.All it took was one animal a little higher up on the food chain to destroy him.

But not Derek. Nothing could threaten him—physically, at least—and that gave Briar the courage to edge a little closer to the conflict.

“Not your fight, Owens,” Wade Guthrie was saying ominously.He was probably shooting for intimidating, but a hint of a whine had crept into his tone.

Derek ignored him, focusing his attention on Sutter instead.

“I warned you already,” he said in a low voice.“Stay away from my family.”

Sutter threw back his head and laughed, wiping fake tears of mirth from the corners of his rheumy eyes.His sunken cheeks were flushed from booze, and his sloping shoulders and beer gut belied his pompous attitude.He must have been hot shit once, or at least thought he was, to have the guts to square off against Derek.He could still crush Briar’s bones in a dozen different ways, but he looked small and pathetic in Derek’s shadow.

“My problem is with Whittaker,” Sutter said.“I ain’t gonna touch West.”

One of the cowboys shouted, “He’d kick your ass again if you tried!”

“I would’ve taken him if I’d been sober,” Sutter snarled, turning on whoever had spoken.

Derek didn’t bother hiding his contempt.“Sobriety ain’t ever been more than a rumor you heard about once,” he said wryly.“The only thing that’ll dry you out is the trip to prison that’s heading your way.You sure this is how you want to spend your last few days of freedom?”

Sutter’s neck reddened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he choked on his own anger.“You’ve always been an arrogant prick, Owens.You think you’re better’n me now?I remember your roots. I remember when you used to beg me for work just to keep that brat fed.”

He jabbed a stubby finger in West’s direction.

Something dark and truly menacing flashed across Derek's face.Briar's heart began to race, his body locked in a battle that told him to run while simultaneously urging him to get closer.

“And I remember you, Sutter.” Derek's tone was low and vicious.“I know what kind of man you are.I know exactly what you deserve.I've left you alone all these years because you ain't worth my time.But I got time to kill tonight.You sure you want to tangle with me?”

---