“Is he here?” Mick asks, talking to the Rebel, his eyes scanning the space for his brother.
“Yeah. Just relax.” Rebel shifts Teagan gently over to his left, freeing up the other side of his body where Mick is standing.
Teagan puts her hand on Rebel’s arm. “You’re not going to fight in here, are you?”
He shakes his head.
I can see why Teagan is so gah-gah over him. He really does look like her long-time crush, Dolph Lundgren, and he’s totally taken control of the situation without even doing anything yet.
“Colin!” Mick yells out into the room, making me immediately question my assessment of who’s actually calling the shots in his family unit. Usually Rebel is the one at the head of the clan, and I’ve never heard Mick sound so commanding. If this weren’t such a terrible situation, it would probably turn me on. Okay, so even though it is a dire situation, it’s turning me on, but I’m going to try and ignore that part of my personality.
Everyone stops talking and turns to face us.
Aaaaaaand my bedazzled denim shorts suddenly feel a lot less sexy than they did thirty minutes ago.
The crowd in the corner of the room parts and Colin steps out from the middle of it. “Mick.” He nods and says nothing else. His gaze takes in Rebel and the rest of us. He looks casually tough, ready for a throw-down of epic proportions and not one bit scared of or worried about it. It’s funny how a bunch of turtle-necked art patrons had him quaking in his boots, but now a fight with Mick is like nothing to him. He’s just going to throw some fists around and destroy some stuff. Same shit, different day. No big.
I hate that I made that call to Teagan. Bad things are going to happen now and it’s all my fault. I should have waited. It’s like I somehow betrayed Colin, even though he’s the kidnapper. How he’s able to make me feel that way without a single word, I’ll probably never know. Something about these guys at Rebel Wheels … they have superpowers where women are concerned. Damn them and their stupid beautiful faces.
Barbara comes from the group and stands at Colin’s elbow. “Is there something wrong, darling?” She looks up at Colin and then over at Mick and Rebel. I’m pretty sure there’s a sparkle in her eye. The woman is demented. She should be worried about her gallery being turned into a wrestling arena but instead I think she’s seeing this as part of the night’s entertainment.
Looking around the room, I’m pretty sure the rest of the guests are feeling the same way. For a moment, I wonder if maybe we should let them duke it out. His paintings will probably be worth more … the ones that survive, anyway.
Mick moves across the floor and our little group moves right along with him. He stops in front of his older brother. “You kidnapped my date. What the hell is wrong with you, man?”
“She came willingly.”
Mick looks at me. “Is that true?”
I gape at Colin before gathering my thoughts enough to answer. “No, that’s not true. Not exactly…” My face turns red when I realize that I could have left at any point. And yet, here I am.
“How not exactly?” Mick asks.
He sounds so cold, it makes my lady parts shrivel up. Holy raisin hoo-hoo. Ouch. My gaze shifts from Mick to Colin and then Rebel. The entire place is so quiet, I can hear the pirate whispering to his partner in a high-pitch voice across the room; he’s obviously very excited about this little family squabble.
I don’t know what to say. I can tell Mick I was kidnapped and start a fist-fight. I can say I wasn’t, lie and break his heart. My brain tries to function with the opposing forces pulling it apart and the only thing that will come out is animal noises. “Errrrmm … duuhhh … seeeee … gaahhh …”
“That’s what I thought,” says Mick, one second before he takes a lightning fast swing at Colin and lands a punch on his jaw.
Mass pandemonium breaks out as Rebel jumps in the middle of them and tries to stop the fists from flying.
Teagan and I are yelping like little laps dogs as we skitter out of the way. I end up standing in front of the nearby painting with my arms and legs open wide, flapping them around and doing a damn fine imitation of a demented hooker doing an upright snow-angel as I try to protect the painting from damage.
Teagan looks like she’s about to help me until the painting with her face on it catches her eye. She wanders off in a daze towards it and leaves me there to keep the artwork nearby from being destroyed.