Chapter 40

Gabe

I positioned myself near the door, watching him talk to her, his pathetic attempts to get into her pants. My woman.

Mine.

Seeing her at my dad’s house had been fucking painful. So painful I thought my guts were being Hoover’d out my asshole. Shit. She thought she knew the reasons why. That she knew me. Allegra Wilson didn’t know a goddamn thing.

Rock music blared from the speakers overhead and a couple of decrepit assholes jived on the dance floor, hopping on the scratched boards, twining with each other, then separating again.

Yeah, so I’d followed her to the bar. You think I’m a stalker? That I don’t deserve her? Well, fuck you. I protect what’s mine. She couldn’t think I’d let her stroll around Minneapolis unprotected when her abusive ex in law enforcement was constantly on her tail with the safety of the police department behind him.

Allegra didn’t know the half of it. She didn’t realize just how deep Matthew’s obsession went. He was beyond the creepy phase. He’d upgraded to full blown fucking psycho and she still allowed him to sit close to her. God. I’d give anything to walk up to her. To tuck that errant strand of silky hair behind her ear and let my index finger trail from her jawline down the elegant column of her throat. To her pulse. The pulse that throbbed with desire every time we were together. Desire for me.

She swayed on the chair, bobbing in time to the music and sipping from her bright orange drink. Probably had some girly name like Afternoon Delight or Silk Panty. Her asshole ex had ordered the same.

Allegra had ignored Matthew most of the time I’d been here on my recognizance mission, but he was a persistent fucker. Though her silence had to grind at him because that little piss was used to getting what he wanted. Because he used his power as a civil servant to just take it. So much for the vow to protect and serve. The only person Matthew served was himself. An ugly vein throbbed at the man’s temple and he wrinkled his forehead between slurps on his pin-striped straw. Seems he was taking the rejection hard.

Allegra turned towards Matthew and leaned in. My heart stopped but restarted a second later. No, she was just talking to him, they weren’t making out. She raised her finger and poked him three times in the forehead.

Matthew went the color of pure rage. Purple. Like an eggplant. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her arm down. Her bag flopped to the ground and he rose, bringing her out of the chair with him, ramming his forehead against hers. I saw stars and stood up, knocking my beer over in haste.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, bitch?” Matthew shrieked.

I charged across the wooden floorboards, muscles taut, room blurred to motion and sound. I’d kill him for touching her. I’d pulverize him into human grit and bone for this.

“Hey, motherfucker!” I grabbed him by the throat and he released her immediately, eyes widening.

I walked the cop back until he hit the far wall. His feet scrabbled against the plaster, loosening chips, which fell in a dust of crushed white chunks to the floor. He clawed at my hand.

“Arrest you for this,” he managed, between wild-eyed glances and failed attempts to kick me.

“Yeah, I’m sure the guys down at the station will be really interested to hear you’re harassing your ex. Can you say restraining order?” I dug my fingers into the meat of his throat, squeezing in increments, cutting off his airflow, driving the blood pressure up. Man, I’d fought underground, I’d been through shit, I knew that feeling, the seconds before unconsciousness. The moment when you thought ‘this is it.’ Lights out. The end.

I wanted Matthew to experience that. He was a fucking bully, and there was only one way to break a bully.

I jangled him, slamming the back of his skull into the wall.

“Hey,” a woman croaked, appearing at my elbow. She had a studded chain around her neck and a cigarette dangled from between her chapped lips. “No fighting in my bar, Hercules.”

“Or what?” I asked. “This fucker started it. He was messing with a lady. So it’s okay to harass and physically attack women in your bar?”

Matthew’s attempts to escape had gone as slow as syrup. Shit, I’d better loosen my grip. I let a bit of oxygen into his system so he wouldn’t die before his time. Man, I was tempted. So fucking tempted to let him expire into a lifeless heap on this old chick’s mortgaged floor.

The owner dragged on the cigarette. “I see,” she said, and the smoke bobbed up and down. She puffed out a cloud of grey and scratched at the skin beneath her studded collar. “Then let my boys handle him, sweetie. You be on your way. And take the woman with you and make sure she gets home okay. She had about a fifth of high-end vodka.” She jerked a thumb back towards the bar.

I let Matthew slide to the ground, grasping at his throat. I was gratified by the red welts that had risen on his skin, and the sweat streaking his hair and cheeks. A burly guy in a stained biker’s jacket appeared beside me. He lifted the scumbag from the floor and walked him towards a back room.

“See you later, Paul Blart,” I said, unable to resist a parting shot. Matthew’s gaze was pure terror. He looked from the massive man gripping him by the collar and then at me. Even though I knew it wasn’t over with him. It was never over with men like Matthew because they didn’t know when to quit.

I strode back to the bar, scanning for Allegra. She was my woman and she always would be whether she understood it yet or not. We were meant to be together, because what we had was the only real fucking thing left in my obliterated universe.

Allegra was under the pool table, scrambling for the contents of her purse. A few pool players had stopped their game under the guise of helping her when they were just staring at her glorious ass with their mouths hanging open. She kept telling them off. That was my Allegra. Feisty to a fault.

“Hey,” I said, crouching beside her and offering a hand, “We need to go before Mae West changes her mind and has us thrown out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Allegra flapped her arms. She was definitely a little tipsy. “I told you I don’t want to see you again.”

“There a problem here?” a tall guy said, flexing his biceps. “Seems like this little beauty doesn’t care for any male company tonight.”

“There will be a problem if you make one.” I stroked a thumb down my jaw, scraping it against the stubble. “This is my girlfriend.”

“Enough,” Allegra said, with an exasperated sigh. “God, enough macho for one night, please.” She shuffled out from underneath the table, holding a can of pepper spray and her handbag. She poked a tapered finger into my chest. The same one that had made a dent in Matthew’s forehead. “Don’t call me your girlfriend, you lying prick.”

“I see I didn’t have to worry about you, after all,” I said, though I didn’t believe it for a second.

“Whatever. I want to go home.” Ally tucked the bag over her shoulder and walked to the door. She had heels on and her flawless ass sashayed in her dress. I tried not to drool over her, but she had those killer curves I’d never been able to resist.

Fantasies flashed through my mind. The moments we’d already shared and the ones we would share in the future. We would.

“Allegra, wait,” I said, catching up to her with two great strides. “You can’t go home alone. I won’t let you drive.”

“That’s what public transportation is for,” she replied, then opened the door and stepped into the snow without her coat on. She rubbed her arms and grimaced. “You think I’d drive when I knew I’d be drinking? Probably should’ve brought a coat.”

I stripped off my leather jacket and draped it around her shoulders. “That’s it. I’m taking you home.”

“Yeah, in your dreams, Robert Dewey Hoskins.” She straightened and went to stand by the edge of the road, looking both ways for her savior taxi. Nothing materialized except for a homeless guy near the trash cans at the side of the building. The degenerate stopped dead and stared at the view Allegra made as she tried to hunt down a paid ride.

I walked up to her and rested my hand on her shoulder. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, fine, but you don’t get to touch me,” she said. “You’ve lost the right to ever touch me again.”

I let go of her and nodded. That one syllable. God. I didn’t want to say it. Couldn’t say it. Saying it was like watching a life raft drift through my frozen fingers as I bobbed in the waters of the Bering Strait.

“Fine.”