Page 46 of Indigo Sky

She nodded. “And an ambulance.”

“Okay.”

I turned back into the room as Wendy ran off to get what I’d asked for. I could’ve gone to Saul, could’ve helped Sam, and I would. But first, I went to Indigo.

Unbuttoning my jacket and sliding my arms from the sleeves, I asked, “Are you all right?”

She laughed through the tears trickling down her face. “Occupational hazard.”

Using my body to block hers from the guy’s wild-looking stare, I laid my suit jacket over her shoulders. She gave me a weak smile as she held it around her body.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Yeah, no problem.”

Then, I turned and headed toward Saul, crouching in front of him. “You good?”

The gash on his forehead was still bleeding; the shoulder of his gray jacket was wet with fresh blood. I couldn't see what exactly was wrong with his arm, but he wasn't groaning, and he hadn't lost the color in his cheeks, so I assumed he wasn't too badly hurt.

“I’ll live,” he grumbled, glaring at the guy in the corner. “Don't worry about me though. Take care of that piece of shit. Cops should be here any second, and we don’t want him running.”

With a nod, I slowly stood and turned to the man still being held by Sam.

He was a big, bald son of a bitch, solid and hulking at a rough six foot four. Too big to be subdued for long by my boss, who was roughly six foot even and strong for his age, but probably not strong enough to hold out for the cops to show up.

I took a step forward in their direction, tipping my head and studying the man who was already sizing me up. Dragging his wicked eyes over my frame until he met my glare, a sinister smile stretching across his lips.

"Where's your hook, Captain?"

I smiled, remembering all those times Nate had told me I could be a pirate and take revenge on all the people who'd ever hurt me, ever said shit about me, ever done anything to make me feel bad for something I couldn’t help. I never had. Never found a good enough reason to. And, you know, maybe that was because I'd been smaller back then. Weaker. I never would've stood a chance against those kids then. That was why I had to hide behind Nate. That was why I used him as much as he used me. He was cruel and mean, and I’d had the nice things he'd lacked, like food and a safe place to land.

But I wasn't hiding behind Nate anymore, I wasn't weak, and while I didn't give a single fuck what anybody said about me, I did give a fuck that he had hurt her.

"You got jokes, huh?" I asked, rolling up my shirtsleeves to my elbows. I glanced at Sam and said, "Let him go. Take care of Saul."

Sam didn't ask if I was sure. Didn't question if I could handle this motherfucker, who was high on something he’d probably popped in the restroom because I sure as hell wouldn't have let him in with his eyes looking as dilated as they did right now. Sam just nodded and quickly stepped away to help Saul up and out of the room.

The dude rotated his wrists, working out the kinks from Sam’s grip on him. He eyed me with what I was sure he thought was a menacing glare, but there was nothing threatening about him. Men—people—like him … they were small, pathetic. They preyed on the weak, the ones unlikely to fight back, to fill themselves with the power they lacked in their pitiful lives.

This asshole thought he'd gotten lucky tonight. He thought he'd get away with denying an unsuspecting woman of all control and steal it for himself.

But he’d walked into the wrong club.

"You know, you might be onto something though," I said, flexing my hands before balling them into fists.

The guy didn't respond. He wasn't even looking at me. His beady gaze was trained behind me; his tongue flicked out to lick his dry, scaly lips, and when I glanced over my shoulder, I saw Indigo, still standing where I'd left her. Watching.

I threw a swift punch to his nose, the cartilage crunching beneath my knuckles.

"Motherfucker!" he cried, cupping his hands over his face. "You broke my fucking nose!"

"Well, you're being rude," I reasoned before continuing, "An old friend of mine used to think I should be a pirate, and I told him pirates are bad. But you know—"

"What the fuck are you eventalkingabout?" the guy asked, shaking his head and staring at me from behind his cupped hands.

I snagged one of his wrists, twisting his arm behind his back and wrapping my other arm around his beefy neck. His free hand grappled with my arm as he gasped, behaving as though I were choking him when I wasn't.

I was only holding him still, making him an easy target.

---