Dan rolled his shoulders and prepared for another hit. He hadn’t kicked ass since he was in college, but the urge to defend and protect—to claim—seemed to be an attribute hardwired into anything with a dick. It all came back like second nature. You touch a guy’s woman and you get your nuts served to you on a friggin’ skewer, simple as that.
“Dan! Stop!” Maddie grasped onto his arm, but he shrugged her off and went after the instructor again.
Armando was ready this time, despite the blood dripping down his chin. He lifted his fists and swung as he came at him, but Dan’s limited intake of alcohol made him more alert and agile than the surfer. He rotated back, feeling nothing but wind against his face.
Reaching out, he grabbed the touchy asshole by the front of his shirt and pulled him forward until they were nose to nose. Dan had to force himself to breathe as perspiration beaded on his brow and possession singed his every nerve. Whatever game he and Maddie were playing at? It was done. Completely, fucking done.
“Damn right she’s beautiful. I know that better than most, seeing as she’s my wife. Not your little play thing. My wife. Mine.” The spit flew from his mouth as he spoke, jaw clenched, words measured. From the panic in the surfer’s eyes, the guy was on the verge of shitting himself and, as soon as Dan let him go, he was gonna run with his tail between his legs.
Fucking pussy.
“We clear on that, you slimy bastard? I so much as see you look in her direction again and I’ll knock every one of those teeth right out of your mouth.”
The guy nodded and held up his hands again. “I’m sorry, man. For real. I didn’t mean it.”
Didn’t mean to get his ass beat was more like it.
He gave the guy a hard shove and he stumbled away, wiping at his mouth and putting as much space between them as possible. Eyes over his shoulder, watching his back, Armando hurried toward the back of the club and then slipped out of sight.
Dan clenched and unclenched his fists, and his ears rang so loud, he was getting a goddamn headache. He’d been so caught up in the moment that he hadn’t noticed the circle that had formed around them. He half expected to see a bouncer ready to throw him out on his ass, but there wasn’t a single person who looked shocked about the bloodshed.
No one but Maddie, anyway.
She stood off to the side, her eyes wide and her chest heaving. Emotion—what kind he couldn’t tell—pooled in her eyes and she reached out for him, her fingers trembling.
But he stepped back and shook his head.
She’d let that prick touch her. Not just touch her, but touch her. That line he thought they were both so clear on? The one their wedding vows had solidified? She’d crossed it. And if felt like a friggin’ dagger, twisting in his chest.
He needed to get the hell out of there, before he totally flipped out. He’d trusted her with everything he had and this is what she did?
Before he knew it, he was at the front door of the club, everything around him a blur. The ringing in his ears had turned into a relentless, high-pitched hum. Vaguely, he wondered if she’d followed after him, but he didn’t dare look back. He couldn’t see her right now.
He needed space. And lots of it. From the woman he’d just committed his life to.
How fucked up was that?
Six
She’d pushed him too far.
Crap, crap, crap.
Yes, he was supposed to get pissed—it brought out the side of him she wanted so badly to see—but he wasn’t supposed to walk away. He wasn’t supposed to run. He definitely wasn’t supposed to look at her with so much disgust and hatred in his eyes.
Kicking off her shoes, she hurried out of the club, desperate to catch him before he got too far away. But the night was in full swing now and the people outside the club were just as thick as they were inside. She couldn’t see a foot in front of her, let alone spot Dan in the chaos.
“Whoa, baby, slow down.” A younger guy with a spike in his lower lip and a tattoo snaking up his neck put his hands on her shoulders and caught her when she almost tripped over her own feet. He looked her up and down with such obvious intent, she felt queasy, barely containing the urge to punch him in the face and scream.
Her husband had just witnessed what he thought was her stepping out, and he’d run off before she could explain that wasn’t the case. She didn’t have time for another asshole like this.
“Where’s the fire?” the pierced guy asked, his eyes glued to her cleavage.
“Get. Your goddamn hands. Off of me.” She pushed him away and shouldered her way to the main path, sucking in breath after breath of much needed air. Then she spun in circles, frantically searching the smattering of people for Dan, but to no avail.
Of course, he wouldn’t want to be found—she’d seen the hurt and the cold resignation in his eyes before he turned his back on her.
This is what you get for being so selfish! If you would’ve just told him what you want, instead of insisting he figure it out, this never would’ve happened!
Tears prickled in her eyes and she forced herself to swallow against the agonizing pressure—the guilt—in her throat.