Page 34 of Corrupting Ivy

The crowd became rowdy throughout the night, so Remy called the deputy in to keep things copacetic. He acted like a bouncer standing at the door. It worked for a while, but then he got a call and rushed out the door. Apparently, some stupid kids were vandalizing the water tower again.

A loud crash overtook the music as two bikers threw their chairs to the ground while confronting three cowboys that worked at the Lucky Y ranch. Skyler, Corey, and Lee stood toe to toe with the bikers, unafraid. The Lucky Y ranch held a reputation for hiring cowboys with a record. To the public, they said it was good for these men to reform their life and there was no better way to do it than hard work and an honest living. But to the town locals, we all knew they were up to no good.

“Remy.” I tapped on her shoulder and pointed out the catastrophe about to take place.

She stopped pouring a drink and looked at the men about to throw fists, then shook her head and hollered over the music. “Y’all take your bullshit outside.”

Skyler and Corey stepped forward, ignoring the order issued to them, while Lee backed away. They stood their ground with the bikers, the odds now even.

“Get the fuck outside now,” Remy said, her bat sitting at the ready beside her.

The biker wrapped his fists in Skyler’s shirt and tipped him up on his toes, his teeth visible as he snarled at him. A girl wearing daisy dukes and cowgirl boots walked towards the looming fight with her face in her phone, oblivious to the altercation before her.

I jerked forward towards the girl before my brain could even compute what my body was doing.

“Ivy, no.” Remy’s words made no impact on my destination, nor the speed at which I made it there.

The scuffle began as Skyler threw his fist in an uppercut, hitting the biker in the solar plexus. He doubled over in a fit of coughs from the force. The other biker, running his mouth to Corey, saw what happened to his friend, then balled his fist and smashed it into Corey’s nose. Blood rained down his chin, staining his shirt as he stumbled back, crashing into a table.

By the time I reached the girl, she was dead-center in the brawl, still wildly unaware of the threat. Skyler readied himself as the biker he’d assaulted rushed towards him.

I spun the girl in time, shoving her out of the way and into a couple watching the spectacle against the wall.

“Ivy,” Remy’s voice shattered my ears across the bar, “watch out.”

I spun towards her to see Corey bounding back with a beer bottle in hand, running straight towards me.

Survival instincts kicked in, and I crouched down with my arms protecting my head, then waited for the impact and the pain that would follow.

Moments passed. He should have hit me by now, but I felt nothing.

A twinge of fear zipped through my body as I contemplated looking. I never looked. I always curled into a ball with my eyes closed and counted down until it was over.

But I wasn’t in my small home in Greenville. I was sitting in the middle of a bar fight. I peeked through my forearms to see Corey frozen in place, his clenched fist holding the bottle hovered over my head, causing me to topple over onto my ass.

Randall stood above me with his large hand wrapped around the man’s throat and his other wrapped around his wrist, extending the man’s arm backward. He sneered as he gripped Corey’s throat tighter. Our eyes collided, and the look he harbored there chilled me to the bone. Randall slammed Corey onto the table and smashed his fist into Corey’s bleeding face.

Corey’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he collapsed to the floor. I stared at Randall, stunned by the power he possessed when Lee, the coward who retreated before it even began, crept up behind Randall.

“Randall, behind you.”

He turned in time to trap Lee’s fist under his arm, then wrapped his forearm under Lee’s elbow and, with a quick lift and sickening pop, his elbow bent upwards. Lee’s screams pierced my eardrum as Randall put his hand in the middle of Lee’s chest and shoved him hard. He stumbled over a chair, crashing to the floor with a wood-splintering clatter.

Chaos ensued around us, but all I saw was him. This man who didn’t seem fazed by the surrounding violence. And I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do more—run from him or hug him—I had a feeling he wouldn’t let me do either.

Randall decided for me and wrapped his hand around my wrist. Warmth spread from his touch as he hauled me to my feet. More bikers rushed forward to join in the battle as Randall pulled me out of the war zone and towards the stockroom. I searched for Remy, only to find her with her bat in the center of it all, hitting a man mid-thigh.

“Wait, don’t you think she needs our help?” I said, tugging, hoping to slow him down.

He paused, his hand on the door, looking towards Remy, who was now shoving the end of the bat into someone’s gut.

“She’ll be fine.”

“All right, break it up,” said Sheriff Kennedy as he walked in with his posse.

The door closed behind us, leaving us alone and Remy and the sheriff to stop the fight.

Randall towed me to the back of the stockroom, sat me down on the bed, and kneeled before me. “Let me see.” His rich, timbre voice sent silky ribbons of pleasure coursing down to my core, causing me to clench my thighs.

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