"It's a bitch!" Charlie shouted. "A fuckin' girl! What the fuck!"
"Damn, she looks good, though," Jimmy snickered.
Her shocked, warm brown eyes met Heath's for just a moment before she tried to whirl around to flee. Mikey's hand, bloody from holding his nose, shot out and gripped her upper arm. An upper arm that Heath had previously written off as the skinny limb of a boy, but that he could now see was the softly curving arm of a woman, light with defined triceps and biceps. Her eyes flashed like a caged animal and she jerked uselessly in Mikey's iron grip as Heath snapped out of it.
"Now, now," Mikey was hissing at her. "That's not very fuckin' nice o' you! Snuff me then leave? I don't think so, Princess…not now. Damn, you do look fuckin' good! Charlie wasn't lyin'…"
He jumped almost a foot in the air when Heath's hand slammed heavily down on his shoulder.
"Let her go," he said through gritted teeth.
"Heath, man, it's a fuckin' chick sneakin' around here!" Mikey said, as though by way of explanation.
"I don't give a fucking rat's ass," Heath hissed back, tightening his fingers around Mikey's shoulder. "I said, let her fucking go!"
Mikey released his hold on the girl and she stumbled back, her eyes still wide with fear.
"All three of you pricks, get your shit and leave!" Heath bellowed, shoving Mikey away once the girl was free.
"Aw, come on, man," Jimmy said. "We weren't gonna do nothin' to her—"
"Bullshit," Heath growled. "I don't give a fuck if you were gonna take her dancing. Get the fuck out and don't let me see you back at this gym again!"
"You gonna kick us out over a bitch?" Mikey said incredulously. "Did you know about this or somethin'?"
Heath took two steps before he was nose to nose with Mikey. The other man cowered slightly and winced, feeling the anger and violence radiating off Heath.
"If I gotta tell you fucks to get out of my gym one more time, I'm not gonna be askin' so politely next time," he said in a low voice, his blue eyes, dark with menace, boring into Mikey's. "Now—get the fuck out of my goddamn gym!"
Thankfully, they didn't need to be told again. They grabbed their shit and all but ran out of Carter's, without one backward look to either Heath or to the girl, who had sunk to the floor and was staring after them, her brown eyes still huge with fear and shock.
Heath shifted his weight awkwardly as he glanced at her. After a moment, he took a hesitant step in her direction.
"Miss, you okay?" he murmured quietly, not wanting to further freak her out. She continued to stare past him as though he hadn't spoken to her. "Miss?"
Finally her eyes shifted to him, but even as they locked gazes, he could tell she was still staring right through him, her eyes wide and glassy. He took in the features of her face. She could be any conceivable age between twenty-one and thirty; her face was unlined and soft, youthful-looking, but her eyes held a pool of knowing, of experience, of life events she'd seen that no one should. Her skin was smooth, creamy, olive, with high, rounded cheekbones and a sensual mouth, pouty with pillow-like pink lips. Dark, silky brows arched away from her large, almond-shaped eyes. She would have been beautiful, Heath noted, if she didn't have a look of such intense fear on her face.
He slowly crouched down until he was eye-level with her. Her eyes began to sharpen, coming into focus on him as she blinked rapidly, long, thick dark eyelashes fluttering on her cheeks like the beating of butterfly wings.
"Miss?" he tried again in the same quiet tone. He extended a hand toward her.
Her eyes lit on his hand, and widened. She sucked in a breath and recoiled from him violently.
"Don't touch me!" she said hoarsely, and Heath quickly backed up, lifting his hands in the air.
"Okay, okay," he said, calm and quiet. "Sorry. You're all right."
He backed up several more paces and kept his hands in the air as she scrambled to her feet, gasping, clutching her tattered T-shirt to her body as she fumbled to zip up her sweatshirt. She turned to grab her hat from the floor, and he caught a flash of her eyes, filling with tears as she bit her lip, her face crumpling. Her expression made his heart wrench, made him feel like shit. It was common knowledge that women didn't come here, but there was no rule against it, certainly; in fact, he'd hoped that everyone would come to the gym, men and women alike, and learn something. He was big into women learning how to defend themselves and had even discussed with Carter the possibility of hosting a women's self-defense course.
Now, the only woman that had ever come to the gym, had not only felt it necessary to disguise herself, but had ended up getting assaulted anyway. He felt like a total asshole, even though he'd tried to intervene on her behalf. Why would she ever want to come back now? Why would any woman want to come here? And, for fuck's sake, now he might have to deal with the cops should this woman decide to complain. He definitely didn't need those problems.