He walked around the bar, ignoring Blue’s and Aunt Alice’s snickers. He didn’t care if he looked like a jackass. He wasn’t going to let any man put his hands on Briar. Not in front of him. It was one thing to let her go so that she could continue her life without him. A life that would naturally include her seeing other men. Touching them. Letting them touch her. Knox had just never counted on watching that unfold in front of him. And he didn’t have to watch it. Not in his bar.
He cut a hard line across the room, stopping in front of her with a thud of his boots. She appeared to be enjoying herself. Dancing as the greasy--haired bastard grabbed onto her hips and pushed himself against her ass.
“Briar.” She looked up at his hard bite of her name. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
The color bled from her cheeks as she took in his face. She stopped dancing.
Shelley crowded close, glaring at him. “You’re kicking us out? Why?”
The guy that had been grinding behind Briar stepped forward, his chest puffing out belligerently. He threw an arm around Briar’s shoulders. “Yeah, why do they have to go? We’re not causing any trouble.”
Knox stared at him coldly. “Trouble is about to happen to you if you don’t get your arm off her.”
Greasy Hair looked down at Briar. “This your man?”
Color flooded her face and she paused a moment before shaking her head swiftly.
For some reason this only made him angrier. His hands curled into fists at his sides.
“All right, then.” Greasy Hair met his gaze again. “Then fuck off.”
Briar gasped. Even her friend inched back, smart enough to know that shit was about to get real and she needed to get out of the way.
Briar shook her head, her expression twisting with embarrassment. She stepped out from under the guy’s arm. “It’s fine. I’ll just go.”
“No,” her would--be savior declared, grabbing her arm and tugging her back, farther from Knox. And that was his mistake. Pulling her away from Knox when the only thought pounding through his head was: mine.
Knox reached for her. “Let’s go, Briar.”
The bastard shoved him in the chest. Hard. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, chief, but you can’t come in here and—-”
Knox cut him off, grabbing his hand and twisting it hard, yanking it in an unnatural angle until a sharp snap cracked the air. The guy screamed. Several of his friends stormed the dance floor, surging toward them. Only when they spotted Knox, they stopped. Unlike Greasy Hair, they recognized him and weren’t about to make a move.
“What are you looking at?” he snarled. Knox jerked his chin, ready for them, almost wanting them to come at him. Then he could unleash some of the aggression pumping through him. Somewhere in the far back of his mind he heard his parole officer citing his numerous warnings, one of which was to avoid all altercations. No fighting, whatsoever.
Only he didn’t give a fuck. He wanted to keep twisting the asshole’s arm until it broke. He’d break all their arms if he could right now. The punks exchanged glances with one another and backed down. “Knox! Knox! Stop.” Briar was there then, her hands on his chest, her eyes pleading with him.
“I think all you fuckers need to consider what happens next here.” It was Blue’s voice snarling over the air. Several of Blue’s friends flanked him as he stared down Greasy Hair’s punk--ass crew.
Knox tightened his grip and twisted a little tighter on the guy’s wrist. Greasy Hair whimpered. “Shit! You’re breaking my arm.”
Knox released the asshole and grabbed Briar’s hand. Holding her cool fingers in his grasp, he led her past gawking onlookers.
A voice, a single whisper, wove through the crowd, reaching his ears. “Yeah, Knox Callaghan . . . murderer . . .”
Grim futility flashed through him, sinking past muscle and tissue, settling deep into his bones. That’s right. He was that. He would always be that.
Maybe it was time Briar understood as much. If she hadn’t figured it out, he’d make sure she knew now. And then he wouldn’t stop her as she walked out the door.
HE LED HER through the swinging door with a sign above it that read EMPLOYEES ONLY. His warm, big hand enveloped hers, helping her stay upright. She practically tripped in her ridiculous heels as he dragged her after him, and she wished she had worn flats instead of letting Shelley convince her to go with these boots.
They passed through a small kitchen with a harried--looking man washing glasses and into another back room lined with boxes and walls of shelved liquor.
Knox pushed her back against a wall and then dropped his hands from her. He tucked those hands behind him then, sliding them into his back jeans pockets as if he needed to do that to keep from touching her. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
Her blood pumped from what had just happened out on the dance floor. Her skin felt feverish. She told herself it was the alcohol and all the dancing, but she couldn’t fool herself. It brought to mind that day in the HSU when he had reacted so quickly, with such lethal skill. A viper striking with deadly precision. God. She was turned on. She could barely stop her body from leaning in toward him.
“Are you okay?” His gaze scanned her face, searching.
Heat crawled over her cheeks, burning all the way to her ears, and she fell back against the wall with a gulp of a breath.