Julian took a long, deep breath. Not him, too. "In case you haven't noticed, my only interest is in Grace."
"Yeah, right," Bill sneered. "Don't get me wrong, I like Grace a lot, but I'm not an idiot. I can't believe you're the kind of guy who goes for a cheeseburger when there are so many filet mignons waiting for you."
"I personally don't give a damn what you believe."
Grace hesitated as she and Selena rejoined Julian and Bill. The tension around Julian was tangible. His grip on the beer bottle so tight, she wasn't sure how he kept from shattering the glass.
"Hey, Bill," Selena said as she draped her arms over her husband's neck. "You wouldn't mind if I had a dance with Julian, would you?"
"Hell, yes, I'd mind."
Immediately, Julian excused himself and went to the bar.
Grace quickly followed.
He ordered another beer as she came up behind him.
"You okay?" she asked.
"Fine."
He didn't sound fine. He definitely didn't look fine. "You know, I can tell you're not being honest with me. Now, 'fess up, Julian. What's wrong?"
"We should leave."
"Why?"
He cast a glance over to Selena and Bill. "I just think it would be wise."
"Why?"
He growled low in his throat.
Before Julian could respond, three men came up beside him, and by the looks on their faces, Grace could tell they weren't happy.
Worse, Julian appeared to be the source of their ire.
The biggest was a body-builder monstrosity who was about three inches shorter than Julian, but quite a bit thicker and wider. He curled his lip as he ran his gaze over Julian's back. And it wasn't until that instant that Grace recognized him.
Paul.
Her heart hammered. Physically, he'd changed a lot over the years. His face was broader, with premature wrinkles around his eyes, and he'd lost a great deal of hair. But he still had the same sneer.
"He was the one messing with Amber," one of his flunkies said.
A deadly calm fell over Julian, and it sent a shiver down her spine. There was no telling what Julian might do, and judging by what she saw, Paul hadn't changed nearly as much inside as he had outside. A frat-boy poster-child, Paul had always traveled with an entourage. He believed in making a show of power in everything he did. That macho ego of his wouldn't let him leave until he pushed Julian into a fight.
She only hoped her general had more sense than to fall for such a stunt.
"Do you need something?" Julian asked without looking at Paul or his friends.
Paul laughed and slapped one of his friends across the chest. "What kind of faggot accent is that? I thought you told me Pretty-boy here was after my girl. From the look and sound of him, I'd say he was after one of you."
Julian turned and cut a glare to Paul that would have made anyone with sense back away.
Paul, of course, had no sense. He'd never had.
"What's the matter, Pretty-boy?" Paul mocked. "Did I offend you?" He looked at his friends and shook his head. "Just what I thought, he ain't nothing but a pretty, faggoty coward."
Julian laughed, but the tone of it was more evil than happy.
"C'mon, Julian," Grace said, taking his arm before things got any worse. "Let's leave."
Paul turned that sneer on her, until he recognized her. "Well, well, Grace Alexander. It's been a while." He clapped the short, dark-haired man next to him on the back. "Hey, Tom, you remember Grace from college, don't you? Her little white panties put me over the top of our bet."
Julian froze at the words.
Grace could feel the old pain swell, but she refused to show it. She would never again give Paul that power over her.
"No wonder he was after Amber," Paul continued. "He probably wanted to try a woman who doesn't cry all over him when he screws her."
Julian whirled on Paul so fast that she could barely follow the motion. Paul swung. Julian ducked and sent a fist into Paul's ribs that knocked him five feet into the crowd.
Cursing, he ran back at Julian.
Julian moved to the side, tripped Paul and flipped him into the air.
Paul landed on his back.
Before he could move, Julian placed his foot on Paul's throat, and smiled a cold, small smile that chilled her all the way to her toes.
Paul grabbed Julian's shoe in both hands and tried to remove it. He shook from the effort of it, but still Julian kept his foot where it was.
"Did you know," Julian asked in a casual tone that was truly terrifying, "that it only takes five pounds to completely collapse your esophagus?"
Paul's eyes and arms bulged as Julian increased the weight on his neck.
"Please, man," Paul begged as he tried to push Julian's shoe off his throat. "Please don't hurt me, okay?"