Page 3 of Grind
The threat of violence roils just below the surface. Even though it’s not directed at me, another shudder runs along my spine.
“The fuck you say to me, asshole?” Brooks barks, back to that familiar fever pitch. “Do you know who I am?”
The man holding me shifts me to one shoulder, his arm just under my ass. Broad shoulders. Warm, comforting, and stable; it’s all I can cling to through the haze. But he snorts softly before answering.
“Jesus, do you hear yourself? You’re the one who’s drunk. Go before you regret it, son.” His voice is icy calm, derision infusing the edges of his tone.
“I’ll kick your ass right now!”
“Hey, Sully?” The man holding me calls out to someone, a commanding note in his voice. “Can you help me out for a second? Got my hands full.”
An enormous bruiser of a man pops out from a back door facing the side street. That must be Sully.
Sully takes one look at Brooks and a wicked grin slowly spreads across his face. He’s already flexing his fingers, big meaty hands that have had their share of fights. He’s missing a tooth and his nose has definitely been broken a time or two.
“Escort this gentleman on his way, Sully, while I take the lady inside, please.”
“You got it, boss.” Sully’s smile widens as he cracks his knuckles, moving with menacing speed towards Brooks.
2
Ava
The huge man never even looks back.
Lights blink overhead as we move off the street and inside a building. He carries me into what looks like the back room of an upscale nightclub. Despite his size, he moves with an easy grace and speed I notice, even through the blur of pain.
After he settles me down carefully on a soft black leather couch, he squats on the floor next to me. Strong, muscled thighs strain against the dark fabric of expensive suit pants.
Startling blue eyes bore into mine.
Too intense.
I look away, then back, a magnetic draw I can’t resist pulling my eyes back to his. Every breath makes my chest crackle and one hand clutches at my collar. Almost involuntarily, my other hand moves toward him. What’s wrong with me? It’s a fight to keep from touching him.
Oxygen depletion. It’s the only excuse.
“Hey,” he finally says, a crooked grin spreading slowly across his handsome face.
Disarming, dangerous.
Whoisthis man?
He rescues me from the monster who almost took my life once and threatened me again tonight. But then orders someone to hurt him like it was nothing.
And now he’s here, totally at ease and focused.
All traces of anger gone. The only thing I sense is genuine concern rolling off him in waves as his eyes move over me, assessing. Not in a demanding way. His eyes linger at the fast-blooming bruise that’s forming on my wrist before moving back to my face.
My ragged breathing is loud, reminding me again how close I came tonight. I don’t know what to make of him, but I owe the fact that I’m here, safe, to this man. Whose name I don’t even know.
His smile transforms the hard lines of his ruggedly good-looking face into something that echoes boyish charm. My stomach flips, and not just because of everything I’ve been through tonight. There’s a dangerous edge to this man. Then that fleeting impression melts away as a dimple crinkles the skin next to his lips.
Shit.
He could wield those dimples like a weapon. Probably does.
“Tell me what I can do to help you.”
