Chapter 22

Elle

Elle couldn’t believe what was happening. Forrester led the way, walking straight out of the bar to the parking lot, and Gris and his four cronies followed. Elle gave a desperate look to Harry before running to the door herself. She had to see what was going to happen.

She was surprised at how calm she felt. Ordinarily, Gris had the ability to scare the crap out of her, especially when he’d been drinking, as he clearly had been. Not only that, but he was with the guys who’d been causing trouble at the diner since her arrival, Phil and his idiot friends. Not only did they cause her and Kelly trouble, but their fathers had the power to shut down Gracie’s diner and Harry’s bar at the stroke of a pen.

There was a lot to fear. Five guys against one. Gris threatening to take her home with him and cut short her bid for freedom and a new life. She should have been terrified.

But she wasn’t.

She knew that she wasn’t alone anymore. Forrester had called her his girl. He’d insisted that she was his. He’d committed to her and she knew he meant it. She could feel it. He wasn’t just some guy trying to pick her up. This was something real.

And it made her feel safe. Safer than she’d ever felt in her life.

Even with him about to face up to five big, mean assholes, Elle felt safer than she ever had. That was the effect a real man could have on her.

She’d seen how Forrester had wanted to avoid all of this. Forrester didn’t want a fight. But when Gris had called her a slut, that’s when things changed for Forrester. That was when he decided to take action.

She stood at the door and watched. Despite her new confidence in her own position in the world, she grew more afraid when she saw five guys standing in a circle around the man she was falling in love with.

She prayed he didn’t get hurt, but when she looked at his face, he only looked amused at the situation.

“So,” he said, “which one of you wants to throw the first punch?”

“Fuck you,” Phil said, and lunged at Forrester.

Forrester dodged him easily and used Phil’s own weight against him, forcing him into one of his friends. Another of the local boys then leapt forward. Forrester caught him in the gut with his fist and he doubled over. Then Forrester’s knee came up into his face.

Elle grimaced as blood flew from the boy’s mouth. As he fell, Forrester reached over him and grabbed the fourth boy, pulling him close and punching him hard in the face. Then he turned to where Phil was standing, dazed. Phil threw a half-hearted punch which Forrester dodged, returning his own.

In what had seemed like just an instant, Forrester had neutralized the four local boys. Elle was pretty sure they wouldn’t be causing much trouble for a while.

Gris had watched the scene unfold with a mixture of horror and rage. He’d known Forrester would make a formidable fighter, but he hadn’t counted on him taking out all four local boys with such ease.

In desperation he stepped back to a pickup truck that was parked in the lot and pulled an iron bar about the size of a baseball bat from the back. He swung it menacingly. Elle could see immediately that a single strike from it would be enough to do serious harm to whoever it hit. She’d seen Gris lose his temper before too, and knew that he could easily kill someone.

Forrester seemed unaware of any of this danger. He stepped around the scattered bodies of the local boys toward Gris.

“I think it’s time you apologized to Elle for being such an idiot,” he said.

“I’ll never apologize to that bitch,” Gris said. “Not now, and not ever.”

“All right,” Forrester said. “Have it your way.”

With that, he started running right toward Gris. Gris lined himself up like a batter in a ballgame, the iron rod over his shoulder, ready to strike down Forrester with a death delivering blow. Elle couldn’t bare to watch. She shut her eyes, and then reopened them just as Forrester was within range of Gris’s weapon.

Gris swung, putting all his might into the motion. At the same moment, Forrester dropped to his knees and slid in under the rod, striking Gris’s legs with his own. As Gris fell, Forrester leapt to his feet and kicked him hard. Gris had lost hold of the iron rod and it flew across the lot, landing harmlessly in the snow.

Forrester looked down at Gris, and then kneeled down on his chest.

“You listen to me, and you listen good,” Forrester said. “Elle might have been your girl once, but she left your sorry ass, as is her right. She’s with me now. There’s nothing for you here. You get the hell out of this town before something happens that neither of us can undo. You hear me?”

Gris spat and coughed.

“You hear me?” Forrester said, louder.

Gris hesitated, but as Forrester increased the weight of his knee on Gris’s chest, he submitted.

“I hear you,” he said.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“You’re going to get out of town, quit causing trouble?”

“Yes.”

“Let the girl be?”

“I’ll let her be.”

Forrester nodded. “All right,” he said.

And with that, he got up off Gris without causing him any further injury. Elle couldn’t believe it. She wasn’t even looking at Gris and the other boys. She only had eyes for Forrester. As far as she was concerned, he was a complete god.