“Be quiet.”
“Ryan?”
“That’s right.”
“What the hell?”
“Stop moving or I’ll break your arm.”
A tremor passed through Jerome and he closed his eyes.
“Open your eyes.” He flicked them back open and Ryan’s voice hardened with the effort it took to keep himself in check. “We Oklahoma boys don’t like it when someone threatens our women.”
“I didn’t threaten—”
“Shut up.” Ryan pulled Jerome’s arm higher up his back and heard him whimper. “You may not have come right out and said the words, but you most certainly threatened her when you sneaked up on her in the dark the way you did. Kind of like what I did to you. Do you feel threatened?” When he didn’t answer, Ryan repeated the question louder and squeezed his neck. “Do you feel threatened?”
“Yes, yes. Yes, I do.”
Ryan loosened his grip on Jerome’s neck enough so that his cheek no longer pressed into the door, but he kept his arm in the same awkward position. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to leave Shawna alone. Don’t speak to her. Don’t even look in her direction again. Do you understand?”
“Do you realize I could have you arrested? I’m an attorney. I could sue you, destroy your reputation—anything I choose.”
Ryan had to hand it to Jerome; he had balls. “I don’t care what your profession is. Matter of fact, I happen to know a really good attorney, too. You may have heard of him—Gabe Benson, your boss. Turns out, we have a lot in common. I wonder what he’d think about your behavior, considering you’ve probably been kissing his ass for years trying to move up in his firm.”
Jerome’s lips tightened and he remained silent.
“So let me ask you using lawyer-speak so there’s no confusion,” Ryan said. “Do you understand the terms under which you’re to perform in your revised relationship with Shawna?”
“Yes.”
“Lucky for you that college-educated brain of yours kicked in and helped you make the right decision.” Ryan patted him on the back in a condescending manner. “I’m glad we understand each other. Next time, pick on someone your own size.”
Ryan turned away, but his instincts warned him what kind of man Jerome would be, and he was right. He’d hoped Jerome would take a shot at him so he’d have an excuse to hit him. As the other man swung, he dodged. Moving quickly, Ryan landed a right hook that jerked Jerome’s head back. He staggered backward and Ryan followed, landing a left jab to his midsection and another blow to the face that sent him crashing into the wall. He slid to the floor in a daze, blood trickling from his left nostril.
“Come on,” Ryan said, pacing restlessly. Adrenalin pumped through his veins. He was more than ready to go toe-to-toe with this guy. It couldn’t be over already.
“Get away from me,” Jerome whimpered, flinging his arms over his head.
Ryan’s fisted hand itched to land another punch, but he refrained. Jerome cowered on the floor of the porch. Like all bullies, he toppled when someone stood up to him.
Disgusted, Ryan left without another word.
****
When Ryan arrived at La Petite Robe, Shawna and her staff were in the midst of setting up. They’d moved the clothing racks to create a runway down the middle of the store and set chairs along the length of it. One staff member was in the process of placing brochures and other literature on a table, while another dressed the mannequins in the visiting designer’s outfits.
“Where do you need me?” Ryan asked.
Shawna looked closely at him. “What took you so long?”
“I had something to take care of.”
Her gaze ran down his arm and rested on the reddened and bruised knuckles of his hand. “What happened?” she asked in a lowered voice so her employees couldn’t hear. “You didn’t do anything crazy, did you?”
“Nothing crazy. I guess you could say I hit something.”
“Something or someone?”
He shrugged.