Wrong (A Bad Boy Romance)(137)

Who was this woman?

Grabbing the man's shoulders, I yanked him to me, forcing him to release Red. Then, before he could get his balance, I shoved him away violently. He stumbled, catching himself at the last second.

“Hey, Fuck-Head!” I shouted, cracking my knuckles. “What the hell are you doing to these two?”

I wasn't some breed of hero; this was none of my business. But no one else had stepped up.

How could I sit back and watch?

The big guy stomped forward, eyeballing me—sizing me up. “This isn't your problem, buddy. Why don't you get out of here before you get hurt?”

I knew he could see the muscles through my tight shirt and open jacket. I'd dressed to impress the ladies, but it also warned the world that I was no push-over.

If this guy thought I'd be an easy mark, he was dead wrong.

Standing taller, I flashed my best smile. “A lovely woman in a skimpy skirt is waiting for me to return, and you just cock-blocked that plan. Someone has to pay for that, might as well be the asshole beating on his girlfriend.”

To my left, Red made a face. “I'm not his girlfriend, and neither is she.”

“You're both single? Good to know.” I blessed her with a quick smirk. The way her eyes widened had my heart beating faster.

Unfortunately, I had other priorities.

The big asshole lifted his chin, chest puffed out like a rooster. “Last chance, get lost or get ready to collect your teeth off the grass. Hope you have a good dentist.”

“Holy shit,” I laughed. “Did you really just say that? Like, actually say that out loud?”

Lines crawled across the bridge of his nose, a snarl if I'd ever seen one. Talking this out was a failure. I'd already figured it would be. Any guy that'd attack a woman had to be short-tempered.

Ducking low, he ran right at me.

I'd taken some martial arts classes when I was a teen. Nothing serious, basic body-movement and leverage shit. My mother's idea, of course—she wanted me to know how to protect myself from the 'bad kids.' I don't think it occurred to her that I was one of those kids.

If she was still alive, I would have thanked her for those lessons now.

Anticipating his movements, light on my toes, I tensed up. When he got close, I darted to the side. It didn't take much momentum—he was the one rushing me—for my fist to slam into his guts.

The noise he made was awful, like a balloon deflating while it dribbled wetness.

Coughing, my attacker slumped forward. Hugging his stomach, he glared up at me through his hair. Drool slid down his chin, veins criss-crossing the whites of his eyes.

The fucker wanted my blood.

Twisting my torso, I got ready to give him one more hit, something to drop him for a few hours so he'd stop being a threat. Nighty night, I thought.

Red's knee came down, catching him in the ear and planting his face firmly in the grass. Green stained his cheek, his shirt ruined from his own spittle.

The other girl gasped, covering her mouth.

Holy shit. Lifting an eyebrow, I stared at Red appreciatively.

She smoothed her shirt, shrugging. “He deserved it.” Bending over, she helped the blonde woman to her feet. “Are you alright, miss...?”

“Trish,” she said, stepping further away from the unconscious man. “And thanks. Both of you. I don't know what made him think it was okay to corner me like that. I told him I didn't want to go home with him. I'd seen him slip something into my drink earlier, knew he was bad news.”

A picture was forming in my mind. This guy wasn't just violent, he was a fucking rapist. I hadn't felt bad for him before, but now, I fought back the urge to kick him while he was down.

Red pulled out her cellphone. “Let me call the police.”

“Wait,” Trish said quickly. “I'd prefer if you didn't.”

I frowned dubiously. “He tried to drug you. The shit-heel shouldn't get to walk away from that.”

“Nothing really happened, just almost. The cops won't help with this.” Trish shrugged defeatedly. “I've been down this road before. Nothing gets resolved and I get dragged through the mud.”

Red looked shocked. “Wait, what?” she asked.

Offering an apologetic smile, Trish slid backwards. “Thanks again.” In seconds, she'd faded into the crowd.

The red-head tightened her eyebrows, glaring down at the guy on the ground. “Now what do we do?”

I understood her anger; this man was trash. But we were in public, it wasn't like I could tear him to pieces with everyone watching. The reality of the situation sucked. I said, “We can't do anything, so we have to do nothing. For now.”

She fixed her wide eyes on me. The centers were flaring, green jade that was engulfed in flames. “What does that mean, 'for now?'”