Sinful Protector

by Mia Ford

  Ethan and Grant are my best friends within the club. We met once we’d all joined, and they’re the two that I enjoy speaking to the most.

  Right now, however, as I rub the bridge of my nose, I know I could cheerfully throttle them both.

  As Ethan laughs, I cast my eyes around the bar. It’s fuller now, with more people coming in every now and then. As I glance at the door, it opens and a single man walks in.

  He’s vaguely familiar, but it’s hard to tell why I recognize him. He isn’t in the club, and I haven’t seen him in the bar before. I contemplate him, wondering where I know him from.

  “So, where’s the damsel in distress now?” Ethan asks.

  I remember the way Allison had thrown herself at me and broke down all my protests, and snort.

  “She’s no damsel in distress,” I say, rolling my eyes. “And I assume she’s at home or out with friends. Who knows?”

  “You mean you haven’t been obsessively texting her, telling her what a wonderful night you both had and how much you can’t wait to see her again?” Ethan gasps dramatically.

  I huff and reach out to cuff him around the head. But several others are already sniggering at me, and I glare at them all until they look away, intimidated.

  “Cut it out,” I snap. “First, it was one night, and it only happened because we were stupid. Second, I don’t even have her number, dick. Third, can you really see me doing something like that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Ethan says thoughtfully. “I can absolutely see you lying on your bed, waiting for the next text. “Darling Allison, the sight of your beautiful eyes-”

  That was as far as he got before I calmly pick up my mug, which has only a few centimeters of drink left in it, and tip it over his head. Ethan stops, stunned.

  Raucous laughter starts up at the sight and Grant sighs as he makes his way over, throwing a towel at Ethan’s face.

  “You’re cleaning that up,” he says to me.

  “Yeah, fine,” I say, unable to help grinning.

  It was completely worth it.

  The next hours pass quickly with loud laughter and obnoxious jokes. It becomes easy to put Allison out of my mind as I joke around with my friends, rolling my eyes when they say something stupid and competing to see who can drink the quickest.

  The bar is far from quiet. It’s Thursday night, but there are several people here, forming their own groups at different points of the bar. I can see Tom in the corner with some men and women (I notice, with a scowl, that the women are not the same as the ones I saw last night), and another clubmate, Liam Hill, waved to us before going on to wish everyone luck in the pool competition. I’m disappointed that Alex hasn’t turned up with news of the house, but I know these things take time.

  Ethan and Grant have, thankfully, dropped all mention of Allison as well. Ethan, despite his claim that he would return home after two hours, is still here, waving his arms wildly as he tells a story I’m not listening to. He’ll be annoyed, later, that he missed the chance to mess with Georgia, but I’m glad he’s here; despite his careless, cheerful exterior, Ethan has been working much too hard, running himself ragged, which is likely why Georgia kicked him out both yesterday and tonight in the first place. Grinning to myself, I snap a quick picture of him and send it to Georgia. She replies within seconds.

  “Good!”

  I laugh quietly and shake my head. Georgia is a godsend in Ethan’s life and I wonder when he’ll realize… I shake my head with a quiet smile. It’s not my place to mess in their lives.

  I hear loud laughter from the corner and my eyes drift that way, curious. It’s the oddly familiar man I saw come in earlier. He’s made fast friends with some of the other regulars and they’re all guffawing over something the man has said.

  It’s playing at the edge of my mind, frustrating me. I just can’t think where I know him from, which is unusual for me; normally my memory of faces is excellent.

  Then the man sits back, a large, unpleasant grin on his face, which is now half in shadow, and my stomach drops as I quickly look away.

  It’s Jesse, the man that had assaulted Allison last night.

  Of course I didn’t recognized him; it had been dark, and he had been standing in the shadows when I punched him. It doesn’t look like he’s recognized me at all, either, and I’m happy for it to stay that way. Or maybe he was just too drunk to remember exactly what happened.

  “Kyle? Everything good?”

  I bring my attention back to the present. Ethan is looking at me with a frown. It takes me a moment to clear the drunken haze enough for me to focus on what he’s saying. Maybe I’ve had just a little too much to drink.

  “Yeah,” I say.

  “Do you know that guy?” Ethan asks curiously, glancing over my shoulder at Jesse.

  “He’s…Jesse,” I say. Did Allison tell me his last name? I can’t remember right now. “He’s a scumbag.”

  “Well, from the way you were glaring at him, I figured,” Ethan says, amused.

  I was glaring at him? Shit, I hope he didn’t notice. I don’t want to get thrown out. Despite the fact that we’re friends, I also know Grant won’t hesitate to throw out anyone that causes problems.

  “He’s a fucking scumbag,” I repeat, turning away.

  “Yeah, but what did he do?” Ethan presses.

  I glare into my mug. “He’s the bastard that assaulted Allison last night.”

  The smile instantly drops from Ethan’s face. Something ugly crosses his expression and he cracks his knuckles threateningly. Perhaps Ethan has also had a little too much to drink; his first impulse is never usually violence.

  “Should we have a word with him?” he asks darkly.

  “No,” Grant says, interjecting into the conversation. “You will not. Or, at least, you won’t until you leave.”

  “Aw, come on, Grant…!” Ethan whines.

  “No,” Grant says firmly, rolling his eyes.

  “I wasn’t planning on doing anything,” I assure the man. “I’m just gonna ignore him.”

  “Good,” Grant says. “Make sure it stays that way and out of my bar.”

  “It’s fine,” I say dismissively. “Allison… She said he’s an idiot and a coward. He’ll bluster but he won’t do anything.”

  Except he did. He gripped Allison hard enough that it must have bruised, and she had looked scared. That wasn’t nothing. Even if it was unusual, if he could do it once he could do it again.

  I stamp down the wave of fury that rises in me. No. I’m staying out of it. I’m here to have a good night. He’s here to do whatever the fuck he wants. There’s no reason for either of us to even cross paths.

  Yes, laying low and ignoring him is the best thing.

  My resolve lasts until I hear Jesse’s voice rise above the din. I’m not sure if he’s just louder than everyone else, or if part of me was listening for him, but I can hear him clearly.

  “That bitch wasn’t even good for anything!” he crows.

  Every muscle in my body tenses. Ethan glances at me as my hand tightens on my mug, my teeth grinding. I know he’s talking about Allison.

  “All she’d ever do is nag, nag, nag,” Jesse continues on, his words slurring. He’s had a lot to drink. “Don’t drink so much, get a real job, stop shouting at me, you’re an asshole… She was fucking annoying!”

  It seems that his encounter with Allison last night had finally convinced him off getting back together with her. So he’s dealing with it by mouthing off in a bar. It’s exactly what Allison said he’d do; he’d curse and rant and rave and, ultimately, never do anything about it.

  I start to relax. See, nothing to worry about.

  “But, I’m telling you, that bitch is going to get what’s coming to her!” Jesse shouts, waving his mug so that alcohol sloshes over the edge. He slams the mug on the table, and his fist follows a second later. “Ha, she thinks she can say whatever the hell she feels like? She needs to fucking think again. I know where she lives!” />
  What? Allison hadn’t seemed worried about Jesse coming after her, and I doubt she would have been foolish enough to tell Jesse where she was going. So how…

  I pause. My blood runs cold. Was it really just a coincidence that Jesse was hanging around the corner shop only a few blocks away from Allison’s apartment? Has he followed her before now to find out where she’s living?

  This is beyond not being able to accept that she left him. This is obsession.

  If I’m right. I could be wrong. Maybe someone said to Jesse “hey, I saw your ex-girlfriend go into an apartment, does she live there now?” or something like that. Him knowing where she lives now doesn’t just have to mean that he stalked her home.

  Still, the possibility is not pleasant.

  And if he knows where she lives, couldn’t he…?

  “And I tell you what I’m going to do!” Jesse says loudly, almost as if in answer. “I’m going to go to that bitch’s apartment and give her exactly what she deserves! No one looks down on me!”

  I try to remember what Allison said. I try to remember that this man is all bluster and no bite, according to a woman who knows him far better than I do.

  But, suddenly, I don’t care. I get abruptly to my feet, making my friends fall silent. There’s a red haze behind my eyes and my hands are clenched into fists.

  “Kyle…” Grant says warningly.

  I ignore him and stalk toward Jesse and his table. They’re all still foolishly laughing. None of them notice me until I’m right there, looming over them. Jesse looks up at me with a sneer.

  “What the fuck do you…?”

  He trails off. I see the moment recognition hits when his face drains of color. My fists shake at my sides. I’m so angry that I can’t think straight, but I still remember my promise to Grant. I won’t cause trouble.

  “You!” Jesse says, jumping to his feet.

  For a moment, I think he might take a swing at me, equal parts angry about me hitting him last night and terrified by how much bigger I am. There’s a snarl on his lips and his eyes are wild. I brace myself; I won’t hit him first, but I’m also going to defend myself.

  Maybe he sees this in my eyes. He falters. And then, before I can say anything at all, he turns and flees.

  “Woo, go Kyle!” I hear Ethan cheer from the bar. “You won that without a single hit!”

  I’m not triumphant at all. My mind is whirling, leaping from thought to thought.

  Jesse knows where Allison lives.

  Jesse has already been talking about going to her apartment and getting his revenge.

  Jesse could be on his way there right now.

  I bolt out of the bar, ignoring the voices calling to me, confused about where I’m going. I feel sick, though I don’t know if that’s because of the alcohol or because I’m suddenly fucking terrified about what will happen next.

  Does Jesse know what happened between Allison and me?

  Is he angry because Allison slept with another man?

  If he was spying on Allison, maybe he followed us to the alley and saw us kissing before we headed back to her apartment. Is that why he knows where she lives, because we wasted precious minutes in the alley and allowed him to catch up?

  I’m dimly aware that nothing I’m thinking right now sounds logical. I need to calm down, because there’s a good chance that nothing is going to happen. It would be stupid to chase Jesse down only to have him flee back to his own home, terrified of confronting me.

  But…what if?

  What if?

  I stop, the door of the bar slamming closed behind me. At some point it started raining, and I squint through the haze, uncaring of the fact that I’m swiftly getting soaked. I can’t see Jesse at all; he’s quicker than he looks, and he’s already disappeared on me. Fuck, the bastard could be anywhere right now.

  Do I take the chance that it’s nothing? It’s probably just paranoia, I’m likely still just jumpy about what I witnessed last night. The look in Jesse’s eyes yesterday combined with his words tonight have just unnerved me. Nothing is going to happen.

  But…

  I turn and start to run, heading in the direction of Allison’s apartment.

  It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to take that chance.

  Chapter Eight

  Allison

  There’s a pounding sound which reverberates through my skull and makes me groan, angry at being woken up. I blink my eyes open and stare blearily up at the ceiling.

  What time is it?

  I turn my head and glance at the clock. It’s two -thirty in the morning. Why the hell am I awake at two-thirty in the damn morning?

  Then I hear the pounding sound again. There’s something knocking on the door with all their might. It’s disturbed me, and likely all my neighbors, from slumber.

  I have half a mind to yell at whoever is at my door. I slip out of bed and grab my robe, indignant at the rough wake up call, and stalk to my bedroom door, throwing it open. The knocker falls silent, no doubt hearing me moving about.

  Then I freeze. It’s two-thirty in the morning. Who would be knocking on my door at this time of night?

  Fear suddenly rises in me? Is there an emergency? But, no, none of my family live in Philadelphia; they would have called before making their way here if something bad had happened.

  So…?

  Then another possibility raises its head.

  Jesse.

  It had taken me far too long to notice that Jesse shouldn’t have been hanging around the convenience store last night. When I realized that Jacqui was right about my normal drinking habits, it wasn’t hard to jump to the realization that Jesse would have also known about these habits. I hadn’t moved very far from Jesse’s apartment, more for convenience’s sake than anything, so I was still visiting the same damn shop.

  Yet Jesse was there. He may not have known I would show up last night. But…what if he had known I would turn up there eventually?

  Does that mean he knew I didn’t move far?

  Does that mean he knows where I live?

  I’m not afraid of Jesse. Despite what happened last night, there’s nothing to be afraid of. He’s an asshole and he barks and insults and ultimately storms away like a child who hasn’t gotten his way. Last night happened because I told him in no uncertain terms that we would not be getting back together. He moved before he could think, but it would have gone no further than it did.

  But…

  The look in his eyes is the one thing I can’t explain away. That half-crazed expression that made me step back.

  So, if it is him at my door…?

  Slowly, I reach into a nearby box, for the first time grateful that I haven’t organized any of this stuff yet. I pick up a heavy dictionary. It’s not the greatest weapon in the world, but it will do. I draw my robe tighter around myself and go to the door, peering out the eye hole, my dictionary raised just in case the intruder has decided he’s tired of waiting and wants to try breaking in.

  When I see who it is I almost drop the book.

  I scramble to open the door and throw it open, staring.

  “Kyle?” I ask, shocked and confused.

  He’s standing on my doorstep, soaking wet and looking more than a little drunk as he sways on the spot. It suddenly reminds me of Jacqui’s warnings, when she reminded me that I didn’t know Kyle at all, and now he knows where I live.

  Well… Now what?

  “What are you doing?” I hiss, blocking the doorway, still holding the dictionary, just in case.

  But Kyle isn’t looking at me at all. He doesn’t make any attempt to come into the apartment. He’s looking frantically over my shoulder, his eyes a little wild. After a moment, however, his shoulders relax and he breathes a sigh of relief.

  “Good, he isn’t here,” he says with a nod.

  Only then does he look at me. He blinks, as though he isn’t quite sure when I got there, and runs a hand through his hair.

  “Sorry about this,” he says to
me. “Didn’t mean to wake you. I’m just going to sit out here, okay?”

  And then, before my astonished eyes, he slides down the wall, crosses his arms, and directs his eyes to the end of the hall, where he’ll be able to see anyone coming long before they reach him.

  I gape at him.

  “What’s going on?” I ask when I find my voice.

  “I’m staying here tonight,” Kyle informs me, in the sort of voice that tells me there’s no point in arguing with him over this. “So I can keep watch.”

  “Keep watch?” I’m so confused. What the hell is even going on right now? “For what?”

  A dark expression crosses his face.

  “Jesse,” he growls.

  I blink at him. And then I laugh incredulously. Because, what, seriously?

  “Are you joking?” I ask, only just managing to stop myself from raising my voice at him; I’m going to get so many complaints from the neighbors tomorrow. “I told you that you don’t need to worry about him. Is this about last night? Because he ran off, like I told you he would. We won’t see him again.”

  “It’s not about last night,” Kyle huffs. “It’s about tonight.”

  He’s not making any sense at all. I sigh, considering my options. It’s too early for any of this crap, to be honest. I can either leave him out here and let him do what he wants, or I can invite him inside and figure out what all this is about.

  I’m a little uneasy about that idea. I don’t know what he’ll do if I let him inside, especially considering how drunk he looks. But I also don’t want to leave him out here; he’s soaked to the bone and he’s already shivering in his wet clothes. Did he run all the way through the rain to get here?

  I sigh.

  “Come in,” I offer. “I’ll make some coffee and you can dry off. Then you can tell me what this is all about.”

  “No, thanks,” Kyle says politely. He’s still staring down the hall intently. “I’ll stay here.”

  It’s way too early for this. I really should just leave him here.

  But I can’t.

  “You can keep a better look out inside,” I coax him, and that attracts his attention. “You’ll be able to see who comes in and out of the apartment, and see what they’re doing in there.”