Page 6 of Natasha
For several moments, no one moved or said anything, and Natasha had the wild hope the man would just leave, that this night would just end and be another bad memory. But then he sprang forward, face twisted in a fury.
"You bitch!" he yelled. "You can't just kick my daughter out!" Brandon charged forward, his hand swinging wildly in her direction, but Silas intercepted the other man's swing without so much as breaking a sweat, and before Natasha understood what she was seeing, Brandon lay flat on his back.
"You don't touch her," Silas growled. His voice filled Natasha's ears, and she felt a sudden shiver pass over her at his words.
"But she—" Brandon spluttered, looking bewildered at his sudden place on the floor.
"The only reason I'm not pounding you through the floor right now is that I don't want her to have to clean up the mess your sorry ass would leave behind. Do you understand?" Silas leaned down toward where Brandon scrambled on his hands to get away from him.
"I'll sue you," Brandon hissed, his eyes darting from Natasha to Silas. "I'll put this fucking school out of business."
Natasha rolled her eyes at that and snorted. "And how do you propose to do that with the camera footage we have of you?"
Brandon's face went white. "What?"
Natasha pointed toward the corner behind him with a wave of her hand. "You should wave to the camera. Real big and nice. A smile wouldn't hurt, either."
"You know you wanted me. You wanted this, even if your fucking cameras don't show it," Brandon said, standing up slowly and pinning Natasha with a leer.
Natasha crossed her arms, and Silas was there again, pushing Brandon in the chest with a quick jab of his hands.
"Get the hell out of here," Silas said, his eyes hard, his mouth pressed into a tight line.
"Don't touch me." Brandon tried to slap at Silas' hands, but he failed to come close as the other man gave him another shove that sent him stumbling back a few steps. "Back off!" he yelled at Silas, suddenly looking like a child who had been sent to timeout for bad behavior.
Natasha raised an eyebrow, watching the display, a smile crossing her lips when Silas backed Brandon up to the door with another well-placed jab of his hands. She hoped Brandon felt it tomorrow, that he bruised from where Silas' fingers had dug into his skin like her arms would bruise from Brandon's cruel touch.
"Leave. Now," Silas ordered. He pointed over the other man's shoulder as he spoke and added, "If I see you here again, I'm going to take you out back and show you some fucking manners."
"You're a thug," Brandon spat at Silas, who only lifted one shoulder in a shrug.
"I'd rather be a thug than a pervert. What were you going to do to her, huh?" Silas asked, his voice sharp. "Touching her like that. I'll break every last one of your fingers if you put a bruise on her."
Natasha felt that shiver sweep over her again, except, this time, it was in her belly, like the thrill that hit her right before she took the stage. And now there was no stage to take, no routine to execute; it was Silas making her feel like this.
"Red, lo—" Brandon said, looking her over Silas' shoulder, but the blond man snapped his fingers in Brandon's face.
"Did I stutter? Get the fuck out of here before I put you through the wall."
Brandon opened his mouth to speak again, but Silas cut him off. "Natasha, call the police."
Natasha gave a quick nod and wordlessly grabbed her phone. She had just started to dial when Brandon finally said, "Fine!I'll go; fine! Fucking shit." The man threw up his hands and then shoved the door to the dance studio open. "We can discuss this during business hour—"
A growl, an honest to goodness growl from Silas, had Natasha's pulse speeding up and Brandon backpedaling out of the room. He said something, but Natasha didn't know what because she was staring at Silas, the growl in his chest all she could focus on while he pushed Brandon out of the room. She swallowed hard when the dance studio door clicked shut behind the two of them. She could hear their raised voices in the hallway for a moment before they faded away, and she knew that Silas had kicked Brandon out of the building entirely.
It was only then that she let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding and put a hand over her mouth to stifle the anguished moan that slipped out. Her body was shaking, and that wave of anxiety she had barely been holding at bay hit her full force, and her legs gave out from under her. She hit the floor a second later.
Silas' growl still echoed in her head, growing in intensity until it roared so loudly that she found herself leaning forward on her hands, her phone slipping to the floor beside her. Natasha sucked in a deep breath and worked to stay upright, but it was no use; she was just so cold, so worn out. Her body felt like it was out of her control. She just needed to rest for a moment, and she would be all right. She would be strong enough to put the entire mess of the past twenty minutes behind her if she just closed her eyes for a second. She slumped forward to the floor, the wood cold beneath her cheek, and she shivered as she took in another deep breath. She tried to focus on the only thing that felt like it was grounding her—Silas' growl, that low and throaty sound she'd felt down to her toes. If she just let the roar in her ears be his growl, then the cold settling over her wasn't so bad, the dimming of her vision not so scary. She felt safe with Silas, and safe was something she hadn't felt in quite a while.
It was nice, and so Natasha closed her eyes and finally let herself rest.
