Page 2 of Hold On Through The Pain

She pushed out of his arms and backed up fast, moving deeper into the hall. “I can’t. He’s going to know I…I can’t.”

“Okay, just a moment. Are you in danger?”

She blinked, focusing on something over his shoulder. He held still, his eyes on her while listening for a scruff of a shoe, a harsh grumble, or maybe a curse word flying into the air. Nothing. Her gaze flashed to his, and her lips trembled as her brows bunched.

She lifted her hand and chewed on her thumbnail. Her nerves seemed high, her gaze shifting over his shoulder, then back to him again like she expected someone to attack his rear.

“I didn’t know what type of person he was. I agreed to a date because a friend said they knew him. But he’s not…normal or nice…I’m not sure what word to use. He’s just not a good person.”

Striker took a step closer. “Did he hurt you? Is he the one who gave you these?” He reached up almost touching her lip and then pointed to her eye.

A shudder rippled through her as more tears flowed. He almost missed the brief nod she gave. Anger boiled over so fast he spun before he realized he’d turned away from her.

“Wait. I can’t face him,” she cried out. “He’s strong—he’ll beat you up.”

Striker’s lips twitched into a smile. He chuckled as he turned to her again. Explaining to her the guy wouldn’t know what hit him wasn’t really necessary. She didn’t need to know the intimate details of how he fought.

“He won’t touch me, but I plan on teaching him a lesson. Which guy is he? Come and point him out.”

Her eyes went even wider, and she shook her head violently as she backed up even more. “No, he’ll hit you.”

He clenched his fists, preparing for a fight. “I hope he does.”

Striker reached for her but kept his grasp gentle. He didn’t want to hurt her as he led her out to the main room. Luckily for him, she went easily.

Her hands shook, and she balked a few feet into the room. He glanced at her. Her lips had thinned out even more, and a bead of blood bubbled to the surface. No one should have hit her. Ever.

She moved to stand a little behind him as she grabbed his shirt, twisting her fingers in the fabric. Her trembling made him even angrier.

Arms crossed over his chest, scowl on his face, Striker glanced around the bar, searching for the big guy who had hurt this lovely woman. No one even glanced their way. Her breath hitched as she shivered against him. Fear had this woman tied up tight.

The music on the jukebox died out as the song ended. Now or never. “Hey,” he barked out. “Who hurt this woman?”

People froze. The bartender’s mouth hung open as he lowered the glass he was wiping. Pool cues dropped to the table. Striker waited for the offender to step forward. No one moved.

“Who was it, darling?” he tossed over his shoulder.

Her fingers uncurled from his shirt before sheducked out from behind him. The bartender shuffled out from behind the bar and tugged the worn cord on the jukebox, silencing the music.

The few people still playing pool stopped, and the last of the laughter died. All eyes turned to him, but no one spoke up. He prepared himself to face a bar full of angry men. Foolhardy at best, this was a suicide mission at the extreme. He should have walked away, but he wasn’t the type of man to leave a woman in a bind.

His lips curled up into a wicked smile as the odds grew dimmer. He’d signed up for the military to fight the good fight, and now it was time to give it up for glory.

The reasoning was wrong, and he’d probably be in trouble if he survived, but the challenge had been thrown out, and he wouldn’t back down.

2

Striker tightenedhis fists and squared his shoulders as he widened his stance. He wasn’t going to go down.

“It was him.” Her fingers shook as she pointed to a lone guy standing close to the end of the bar. “He did it.”

The man wasn’t big, not like him, and he wasn’t that good-looking either. Striker wanted to tell her she could do so much better, but it wasn’t his place.

“Step forward,” Striker demanded.

The man shrunk and held up his hands. “I don’t want any trouble.”

Striker’s anger blasted hot. He wanted to work this guy over. He didn’t move though. If this place had cameras, he wanted it to look like the guy attacked him.

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