Page 8 of Salvatore

No he fucking didn’t.

It’s one thing to attempt to slut shame someone who gives no fucks about a man’s opinion, but it’s quite another to tear down a woman who has fought for years to feel comfortable expressing her pansexuality.

“What did you just say?” I step forward, daring him to repeat his stupidity.

“Are you deaf or just dumb?” he asks.

“I’m neither, but you’re on the fast-track to being castrated if you don’t get the hell away from us.”

He scoffs and shoves me—He. Actually. Shoves. Me—two palms to my shoulders, sending me stumbling backward.

Allison gasps. I should see if she’s okay but my rage no longer matches the dictionary description. It’s morphed. Evolved. The toxicity scorching my veins has created enough dark energy to decimate galaxies.

“Do you have a death wish?” I find my feet, square my shoulders, and storm toward him, handing my drink to a random woman that passes by.

He grins. “You want more of this, bitch?”

I match his expression, my curve of lips vindictive. He has no idea who he’s messing with. Or the type of people who’ve previously messed with me and left behind a psycho switch.

I step up to him, toe to toe, and launch my palm at his crotch, hitting his mediocre bulge with enough force to earn a choked cry.

He jerks. Freezes.

“Apologize.” I dig my manicured fingernails into his package.

He’s lucky he wore ugly-ass cargo shorts with heavy-weight material, otherwise he’d already have lost his ability to procreate.

He hunches, dropping his beer to the polished concrete floor, the pint glass smashing on impact.

People stop and stare, eying us as if we’re the latest Hollywood scandal. Some raise phone cameras in our direction.

Shit.I need to cut and run, but I’m too goddamn angry.

“Come on, sweetie.” I hold the asshole’s gaze and claw my grip. “Speak up.”

“Fuck you,” he grates.

“You won’t be fucking much of anything for a damn long time unless you use your big boy words and make amends.”

Allison steps closer. “Ive, I think we should go.”

No. He doesn’t get to take a sledgehammer to her confidence without consequence just because he’s bigger and stronger.

“Apologize before I do permanent damage.” I keep my tone calm. Level.

The gathering crowd parts and a hulking security guard approaches with a waitress carrying a dustpan and mop.

“Is there a problem?” the hulk asks while the woman makes quick work of cleaning up the broken glass.

“Nope.” My claws remain fully engaged as I flash a killer smile. “No problem here. This misinformed piece of trash just mistook me for someone who would let him get away with blatant homophobia.”

“Ivy…” Allison steps up to me, gaze pleading, but her attention quickly shifts to something behind me.

Someone.

I straighten as a presence enters my personal space, settling in close at my back.

“We meet again,” a familiar voice says near my ear, sending a wave of tingling energy down my spine. It’s the pin-down, French martini, cocky-suit-guy from the bar. “I should’ve guessed a pretty face like yours was hiding a mean streak.”

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