Page 60 of Vicious Sabotage

Where was Carver? She was shocked the man wasn’t already here.

“You asshole!”

“C’mon, dickhead. Throw a punch at me. Then it’s game on.”

“Stop it! Get out of my bar!” She waved the bat again, but just then a fist glanced off her cheek.

She’d taken a punch or two in her time as a bar owner, but ouch.

Her head spun from the blow, but the roar filling her ears rocked her world.

A long arm hooked her around the chest, yanking her out of the path of more flying fists. Carver grabbed one man’s arm, twisted and drove him to his knees. The man screamed in pain.

Carver shoved him onto his back and delivered a brutal kick to the balls before he whirled and rushed the other.

He hit the guy with a force like two semi-trucks colliding. But the customer was no match for Carver and flew up and over his shoulder. He crumpled to the floor, and several ladies in the crowd screamed.

One young woman in cutoff shorts, who must be the reason the men were fighting in the first place, marched up to the man and tossed her drink in his face. He sputtered.

Carver grabbed him and hauled him to his feet. Then he aimed another kick at the other’s ass. “On your feet. Now. You’re leaving.”

The entire side of Livia’s face throbbed with pain from that hit, but she gathered her wits and straightened to her full height. Somehow, she still managed to cling to the bat in her hand.

As Carver forced the amateur boxers out of Badlands, she followed with her weapon for good measure.

At the door, Carver shoved them both outside.

Livia started forward. “Don’t come back either!”

Carver wrapped his fingers around her upper arm as if restraining her. At that moment, she realized she gripped the bat in both hands, swinging it back, prepared to finish this fight one way or another.

Fact was, she was mad. Madder than she normally would be.

Carver drew her closer and then gently guided her behind him. “Wait for me in the kitchen, Livia.”

“I have too many customers to sit around.”

“Just do it.” His voice came out in a low, flat way that brought her attention to the fact that he was staring at the men struggling to their feet.

He intended to finish this fight in his own way—and she got the feeling that she was the reason behind his curled fists and that tik in his jaw.

“Wolfe.”

“Listen to me, Livia.”

Her insides wobbled at the grit in his voice. Seeing no way to stop him from kicking the shit out of these guys—and her cheek really hurt—she turned and went back inside.

As soon as she entered the kitchen, the young guy she had manning the grill looked up from preparing a sandwich.

His eyes widened. “What happened to you?”

She groaned and brushed her fingertips over her cheek. Great—she already felt it swelling. “Grab me a bag full of ice, please.”

Her worker sprang into action.

Livia leaned the baseball bat in the corner and sank onto a crate of supplies. As the employee approached with a bag of ice, Carver blasted into the kitchen, sending the door slamming off the wall.

“We need a steak.” He tossed the command at the worker.

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