Page 79 of Sweet Chaos
“Sure thing.”
I sighed loudly while Dylan went off to get his beer and leaned my hip against the counter, texting Nic to let her know that she was fired as my sommelier. Cheap domestic wine was just fine for me. Not like I was a wine connoisseur. I wouldn’t even appreciate this overpriced wine.
“Just so you know, I’m not with you for your money,” I told Dylan when he returned with a measly six-pack of IPA which cost nothing in comparison to my ridiculously overpriced wine from the Alsace.
“You’re with me for the sex,” he said, his voice low but loud enough for the man behind the counter to overhear it.
The man coughed. I blushed. Dylan chuckled.
I smacked his arm on our way out the door. “Stop embarrassing me.”
“Stop fighting me on money. What good is money if I can’t spend it on you?”
Dylan was generous, but thankfully, he wasn’t one of those guys who flashed his money around. He only bought what he needed and wasn’t really into luxury items or fancy toys. And I never got the feeling there were strings attached when he spent money on me. So I guess it shouldn’t really be an issue.
But still. That wine was way too expensive.
Male voices drew my attention to the parking lot across the street and I stopped next to Dylan’s car before climbing in. It took me a few seconds to comprehend what I was seeing. The parking lot was dark except for the beam of light from the headlights of a pickup truck. I recognized the two guys who I’d run into outside the liquor store and I recognized Corbin.
“You motherfuckers!” Corbin screamed, lashing out blindly. His face was bloody, long brown hair matted to his head, and his eyes were wild. I raised my hands to my mouth, watching in horror as the guy punched Corbin, bringing him to his knees.
Dylan tossed me his car keys. “Stay in the car.”
“What are you doing?”
He didn’t hang around to answer. It was pretty obvious what he was doing. He sprinted across the street to the parking lot just as one of the guys kicked Corbin who was on the asphalt, curled into a fetal position.
Dylan ripped the guy away from Corbin, spun him around and planted his fist in the guy’s face. Before he even knew what hit him, Dylan delivered two more punches and my feet carried me closer, my heart beating in my throat.
The other guy got Dylan in a headlock and I winced when the douchebag from the gym punched Dylan in the face. These guys were looking for a fight and they’d found one. Dylan wasn’t backing down and now it was two against one.
It took me a few seconds of watching the fists flying, and flinching at the sickening sound of bone and muscle before I came to my senses.
I reached into my pocket, my shaky hands fumbling to grip my phone, my eyes trained on the fight in the parking lot.
Stomach churning, I called 9-1-1 and chewed on my thumbnail.
Dylan was fierce. I’d seen him fight before, of course, but it had been years ago.
“…what is your emergency?”
“There’s a fight. In the parking lot across from El Camino Wine & Liquor. Please hurry.” I finished my call with the dispatcher then went in search of someone who could help until the cops arrived.
“How about those brews down at the beach, beautiful.”
I whirled around and came face to face with the douchebag from Dylan’s gym.
“Get away from me. You make me sick.”
He moved closer, his eyes drifting to my chest. “Is that right? Your nipples are telling a different story. They look excited to see me.”
“Fuck you.”
I turned to go, Dylan’s car keys clasped in the palm of my hand. The guy grabbed my arm to stop me. I heard a loud roar, and the guy’s hand released me. I turned and backed away, slamming into the back of Dylan’s G-Wagen as he and the douchebag hit the asphalt. Dylan had him pinned to the ground, his face contorted with anger as he drove his fist into the guy’s face.
The wail of sirens cut through the air, thank God, and I sagged against the back of the car, my legs too shaky to hold me up.
The pickup truck skidded to a stop and the douchebag’s friend yelled out the open window. “Get the fuck up, man. We need to get out of here.”
