“I’m not leaving here without you.” I lift my chin and put my hand on his arm.
I’m purposely and willingly touching a man filled with anger. That’s a really big thing for me. Huge, in fact.
Jordan’s eyes flare, but it doesn’t deter me. “Don’t give him what he wants. You don’t have to fight this guy.”
His eyes close as if he’s in pain. “You don’t understand.”
“Are you gonna stop whispering sweet nothings to the hot piece of ass, and let us get this over with?” Donnie cracks his knuckles.
Jordan’s eyes leave me, and go straight to Donnie, hardening on him.
I see the other patrons heading out the back door.
“Leave now or I’m calling the police!” a shaky female voice, assumedly the waitress, says from behind us.
“You do that, sweet cheeks,” Donnie laughs. “I’ll be done with him before they even arrive.”
Ignoring everyone else, I keep my focus on Jordan. “Jordan.” He looks back to me. “I might not understand, but I don’t need to because I know that violence never solves anything. It won’t solve whatever this is.”
He stares down at me. I can see a war raging in his eyes.
After what feels like forever, he exhales. “Okay.”
I nearly cry out with relief when he takes my hand and shifts the car keys back to his.
“Not today, Donnie.” He turns, walking away, taking me with him.
“What? You’re leaving! You’re a fuckin’ pussy, Matthews! A motherfucking pussy!”
My heart is beating so hard, afraid that Donnie won’t simply let Jordan walk away from this and that he’ll come after him.
Jordan pulls some bills from his pocket and drops them down on the counter as we pass by the wide-eyed waitress. “I’m real sorry for the trouble, ma’am.”
Then we are of out of there.
I glance over my shoulder to see if Donnie is following us. He’s not.
Jordan squeezes my hand, pulling my attention back. “He won’t follow us. Despite his bravado, he’s a fuckin’ pussy. He challenged me in there because he wants an audience. He wants me to hit him first so he can get what he thinks is his revenge.”
I don’t question what that revenge is. Jordan will tell me if he wants to.
We’re back at the Mustang in record time. He unlocks it, letting me in.
I’ve just clipped my seatbelt when I hear the sound of Jordan yelling. Seatbelt off, I’m back out of the car just in time to see Jordan’s fist connecting with the wooden fence by the parking space. “FUCK! Motherfucking fuck!”
Normally, in a situation like this I would be paralyzed by fear, but not with him. My feet carry me toward Jordan without a second thought.
He’s standing with his forehead pressed to the fence he just beat on and his hand clutched to his heaving chest.
“Are you okay?” I ask softly.
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look it.”
“Well I am.”
“Can I take a look at your hand?”
“Why?”
“Because you just punched a fence and the med student in me wants to make sure it’s okay.”
He tilts his face in my direction. The look on his face is hard. His eyes cold. The warmth I’m used to gone.
“I don’t need you to fix me, Mia.”
I feel my face flush under the harsh sting of his words.
Clearing my suddenly full throat, I say, “I’m not trying to fix you. I just want to make sure you haven’t broken any bones. Nothing more.”
His eyes close on a long blink.
Stepping away from the fence, he moves toward me and holds his injured hand out.
I take it in my own, ignoring the rush of sensation I feel, and begin checking his hand, making sure he hasn’t broken anything.
“All fine.” I look up at him a few moments later. “It’s just going to be swollen and bruised for a few days. Could do with some ice on it, and we need to clean that out.” I run my fingertip over the small graze on his knuckle.
I lift my eyes to his, finding Jordan already staring down at me with dark eyes. The air instantly shifts. My pulse quickens. Fireflies swarm my stomach, setting my insides on fire.
And what do I do?
I release his hand and step back, putting space between us.
I might not be afraid of Jordan, but I know what anger and sex combined can mean to a man.
Not that Jordan and I will be having sex. I just don’t want to confuse an already confusing situation.
He flexes his fingers out. “All you seem to do is fix us Matthew men up.” I notice his voice sounds gruff.
“I don’t mind.” I shrug.
“Mia…” He rubs his good hand over his hair, exhaling heavily. “I’m sorry I lost it just then. There’s just a real big ugly history with me and Donnie. It’s no excuse, but it was either that fence or his face. And better the fence, right?”