On Cash’s other side, Seth reached into his pocket for a pack of Marlboros. He extracted a smoke and lit up, looking bored as he inhaled, but the deadly look in his eyes belied his casual pose. Seth could rip Brendan to pieces in a nanosecond, if the provocation presented itself.
Brendan went silent, his eyes shifting from one man to the other. Then, as if he knew he was beaten, he mumbled a curse and said, “Fine. I won’t bother her again. Happy, asshole?”
“Ecstatic. Now that we’ve cleared all this up, you can—”
The right hook blindsided Cash.
Fortunately, he saw the fist coming at his nose at the last second and shifted his head so that Brendan missed the intended target. The blow sliced into the corner of Cash’s mouth instead. His bottom lip snagged on his teeth and the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth.
Oh, hell no.
As Jen’s ex charged forward with a second attack, Cash struck him with a jab that made the man’s head snap back. With a roar, Brendan threw another punch, which Cash easily blocked. Blood continued to pour from the side of his mouth, but he didn’t bother wiping it away. Anger pulsed in his veins, and his vision became a red haze. Blocking the fists swinging in his direction, Cash sidestepped and got his arms around the man from behind.
“Are you done?” he demanded as he secured Brendan in a chest lock.
“Screw you!” was the sputtered response. And then the guy elbowed him in the jaw before spinning around and landing a lucky kick on Cash’s groin.
Years of training had taught him to ignore the pain zipping through his balls. Without so much as flinching, he drew his arm back, prepared to pummel the asshole’s pretty mug again, but Seth’s fist beat him to it.
A sickening crunch sounded in the air.
Blood erupted from Brendan’s nose and his hands flew to his face. “You fucking asshole!” he shrieked. “You broke my nose!”
Seth just chuckled. “Shouldn’t have played dirty, going for McCoy’s balls like that. A broken nose seemed like suitable punishment.”
Cash stared at Jen’s ex, feeling a sick sense of satisfaction from the unnatural tilt of the guy’s nose and the blood flowing freely from his nostrils.
Seth retreated and walked over to Dylan, who had watched the entire scuffle with visible amusement.
Cash got in Brendan’s face again, narrowing his eyes. “This is your last warning. Stay away from Jen. If you try to make contact again, my friends and I will pay you another visit, and trust me, next time you’ll have a lot more than a broken nose.”
He stepped back just as sirens wailed from a distance.
Shit.
Cash caught the flicker of alarm on Dylan’s face, the resignation in Seth and Jackson’s expressions.
A car door slammed and footsteps thudded into the alley.
He didn’t need to turn around to know what awaited them.
“This is the San Diego PD! Hands in the air!”
Chapter Ten
Coming up with excuses not to go after what you want won’t achieve a damn thing.
Jen couldn’t get those words out of her head as she wandered around the apartment. After Cash left, she’d tried occupying herself by posting some photos on her blog, but her heart hadn’t been in it. Sifting through her photographs, she’d kept thinking back to everything Cash had said. Ordering her to stop making excuses and man up. Accusing her of letting her parents’ criticism erode her self-esteem.
His words had hurt, but not for the reason he’d clearly believed. He hadn’t damaged her pride or hurt her feelings. No, what he’d done was voice the truth she’d been too blind to see.
She’d always told herself that photography was just a hobby. The thought of pursuing it on a professional level had crossed her mind once or twice, but her lack of experience and education had held her back. Better to call it something she did in her spare time and leave it as that.
But who was she kidding? Photography was her one and only passion, the only thing in her life that made her feel contented and confident. Cash was right. She couldn’t make excuses any longer. She chose to work at pointless dead-end jobs not because she didn’t have any other options, not because she sucked at everything else, but because she was too scared to pursue the one thing that made her happy.
Biting her lip, she paused in the middle of the living room, wishing Cash would come home already so she could explain that she wasn’t angry with him, but with herself. For being a damn scaredy-cat and letting her parents and her own self-doubt hold her back for so long.
Where the hell is he?
She stalked into the kitchen to check the time, frowning when she noticed it was past eight already. He was supposed to meet Brendan at six thirty, and she couldn’t imagine the confrontation lasting this long.
And that was another thing—why had he insisted on confronting her ex-boyfriend? Cash possessed some serious protective instincts, but she got the feeling this was about more than protecting her. This was about him…staking a claim.
Her teeth dug deeper into her lower lip. Was Cash developing deeper feelings for her?
Was she developing deeper feelings for him?
No, of course not. This was just a fling. A fling that would end in a week and a half.
Does it have to?