Page 11 of Securing the Odds

The guy struggled and Jake’s muscles flexed as his arm tightened around the guy’s neck. “What were you planning to do with that?” His head tipped in the direction of the bottle that dangled at her side.

“It was the only weapon I could find,” she defended.

His slow smile came back.

Whatever.

Chapter 5

Jake kepthis eye on Tammy who stood about fifty feet away, talking with a cop he didn’t know. Parker, the cop interviewing him, he did know and was, in fact, good buddies with.

“Been a while since I was on this side of an interview with you,” Parker said. He had his notepad out but hadn’t written anything in it yet.

Jake smirked then immediately regretted it, bringing the bag of ice the bartender was nice enough to supply him with up to his mouth. He ran his tongue over the hole his eye tooth put through his lip. That fucker had a mean right hook.

He glanced over at the guy. He was sitting in a corner booth, cowboy hat now off and resting on the table in front of him, being interviewed by cop number three. Jake was happy to see he had an arm cradling his ribs and that a dark bruise was forming on his chin. It wasn’t enough to fully appease the anger churning in his gut from seeing the fucker’s hands on Tammy and the distressed expression on her face when he’d touched her, but it would have to do.

“Yeah, well, you know me. Gotta be the life of the party.” He readjusted the ice pack after talking.

Parker snorted, knowing a lie when he heard one. “Tell me what happened.”

Jake’s eyes found Tammy again as he said, “Not much to tell. The guy was annoying my girl. I told him to back off. He shoved and threw the first punch. I tossed him onto a table, hoping that would be the end of it. It wasn’t. He came after me again, threw another punch that clipped my lip. I got in a few before he fell and that’s when the others joined the action.” He shrugged, indicating the end of his recap.

Parker stopped jotting shit down in his notebook and looked behind him at the three guys sitting around a table being interviewed by cop number four. “So, it was just you that caused all that damage?”

Jake followed Parker’s line of sight. One guy had a split cheek, but the cut was small and had already stopped bleeding. One didn’t have any visible signs of injury but was holding an ice pack, similar to his own, on the back of his head. The last guy was the worst. He was the one Jake’d put in a headlock right before the cops had arrived. When the guy had tried to sweep Jake’s legs out from under him to break free, Jake, in turn, had thrown him off to the side. It had just been bad luck the guy had landed face first onto a table, breaking his nose. He watched the guy now, head tipped back, rag held to his face.

He looked back at Parker. “They don’t look too bad.”

Parker just shook his head. “You’re free to go. I know where to find you if I need you.”

Jake didn’t waste any time making his way over to Tammy who, talking with her hands, was clearly getting into her story.

He caught the tail end of her narrative. “Then those guys over there,” her finger flew in the direction of the table with the three guys in question sitting around it, “jumped Jake. He had no choice but to defend himself.”

Cop number two eyed Jake as he neared, slipping his notepad into the front pocket of his shirt. “Okay, Ms. Reed, that’s all for now. We’ll contact you if we have any further questions.”

As the cop left, Tammy’s head swiveled Jake’s direction. Her eyes landed on the bag of ice still held to his mouth. “Are you okay?”

They each took a step until they were so close, her tits brushed against his chest every time she took a breath. “It’s fine. Just keeping the ice on to minimize any swelling.”

“Let me see.”

He lowered the bag from his mouth and tossed it to the table beside them.

Her eyes widened, and he figured it looked worse than it felt. She got up on her tiptoes, placing her hands on his shoulders, and leaned in closer, her breath hitting his chin as she examined the wound. He placed his hands on her hips, holding her steady.

With a light touch, she traced his bottom lip with the pad of her finger, and he had to stop himself from nipping it with his teeth or pulling it into his mouth to suck on it. “It’s still bleeding. Do you think it needs stitches?”

He felt his lips tug into a small smile before he could stop it. “It’s fine.”

“Are you laughing at me?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Eyes squinting, she pursed her lips. “Why don’t I believe you?”

He didn’t comment. He wouldn’t belittle the concern he saw written all over her face, but he’d endured worse. A busted lip was nothing and would be forgotten in a few hours.

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