Tina gulped the water down like she hadn’t drunk anything in a week. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m fine, really.”
The blonde’s friend tsked at her. “If you were fine, there’d be no tears. Did he hurt you?” She offered Tina a clump of toilet paper.
She looked at her wrist; angry red welts had already surfaced where he’d gripped her too hard. There’d be bruising by morning. “No,” she fibbed again. “I should be okay.” She wiped her eyes with the tissue, then climbed to her feet. “I can’t thank you enough for chasing him off.”
She crossed the floor, fixed her makeup, blotted away her tearstains, then straightened her skirt and blouse.
“Sure we can’t help?” the blonde offered again.
“My friends are waiting for me.”
The women watched her leave in silence. Embarrassment heated her cheeks as she rushed to get away.
As soon as she reached the bar area, she stopped and took another deep breath. A hundred questions went through her head. Like how Kline knew where she was. The dinner had been a last-minute thing, so it wasn’t even on the schedule book. Just how often did he follow her? Busy with everyday life, she’d forgotten to remain vigilant sometimes. Sure, she glanced in her rearview mirror a few extra times when she drove to and from work. Yes, she locked her door after she got home and kept her curtains closed. But she never imagined he’d escalate to the point where he’d sneak into the ladies’ room in a five-star restaurant and attack her.
There’d been no phone calls the last couple of days. She’d assumed he’d given up. But it appeared his silence meant something different altogether. He’d obviously stewed over the last forty-eight hours, and lashed out the first opportunity he had.
Jesus. She wanted to go home and curl up with Vincent. Whenever they were together, the world around her melted away. And she felt safe. Very safe. Standing in the bar alone made her feel awkward and exposed. She dug in her wallet and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, then walked up to the waitress station at the counter. A server holding a tray smiled at her.
“Can I get you something?” she asked.
“A shot of tequila.” Tina dropped the bill on her tray. “Get it now, and you can keep the change.”
The waitress presented her with a shot glass thirty seconds later, and Tina consumed it in one swallow. It burned all the way down her throat, but she needed liquid courage to return to her table with a sense of control over her emotions. She placed the shot glass on the bar, squared her shoulders, and headed back to the restaurant side of the building.
“We were starting to worry about you,” her colleague commented as she reclaimed her chair.
“Sorry for the delay,” she said. “I ran into a friend at the bar.”
After spending another hour with their clients, Tina and her coworker bid them good night and walked together to the parking lot. He made sure she reached her SUV safely, then climbed into his own truck parked nearby and waved at her before he pulled into the street.
Chapter 23
Vincent corralled Dog Tag on one side of the gazebo while the president of the Man-o-Wars did the same with Crash. They’d shared their choice with everyone. Although some doubters disliked it, no one could challenge or overrule the decision. In order to prevent real bloodshed, this needed to happen.
“Why can’t we do it somewhere else?” Dog Tag questioned, his gaze focused somewhere over Vincent’s shoulder.
“We need witnesses from both clubs to legitimize the outcome. What matters most is that both of you get to walk away from this alive.”
“Only one of us deserves to.”
“Maybe,” Vincent said. “But our personal opinions no longer matter. Once you’re ready, one of the Man-o-Wars will frisk you for weapons.” He gripped Dog Tag by the shoulders and gave him a firm shake. He needed to realize how important this was, why Vincent had chosen this approach. “Don’t let rage blind you. Remember why you’re doing this.”
He took a deep breath and stepped out of Vincent’s reach. “I don’t want Saline watching.”
“I disagree,” Vincent said. “Let her witness how far this club is willing to go to protect our own. What better test of loyalty? Let’s see what happens the second after you draw blood from that crazy motherfucker. If she’s truly devoted to the Sons of Odin, she’ll stand strong.”
Vincent respected a woman who followed her mind and heart. If Dog Tag didn’t want to know how far she’d go, Vincent did. Would she crack if she saw her ex get hurt, or accept that the charter needed to hold Crash accountable for his disrespect?