I’d like to say I didn’t mean to hit him quite so hard, but the truth is, I wished I’d hit him harder. Still, I got a decent punch in, and I wouldn’t deny that there was definite satisfaction in watching the bastard stumble backwards before falling to the ground. The blood on his face was a nice sight, too. I’m not a violent person, not at all, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy that.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” I rushed over to Molly and pulled her into my arms.

She hesitated before shaking her head. “I’m fine. Just a little rattled.”

Physically, I believed her. I’d seen enough to know he hadn’t done anything physical to her. That didn’t mean there wasn’t an emotional impact, though.

“I’m glad you came when you did,” Molly said.

“And I wish I’d been here sooner.” I blamed the stop light at the edge of town for holding me up. “That’s him, isn’t it? The guy you left? The one who used to knock you around?”

“I never laid on a hand on her that she didn’t deserve. You, on the other hand...” The words trailed offer and were followed by a groan.

I looked down at the sack of shit, who had grabbed on to the hood of my car to help him stand up. He started toward me, albeit gingerly. Yeah, I’d gotten a good lick in on him. I choked back a laugh. He looked so pathetic that I wanted to taunt him, at least a little bit, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw a police car turn into the parking lot.

“Go ahead,” I said, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’m sure the cops would love to see you take a swing at me.”

“You started it!” He insisted, but backed off, turning instead and hurrying over to the patrol car, while rubbing at his jaw.

“It’s about time you show up,” I heard him say as a uniformed police officer stepped out of the car. “I think he broke my nose.”

“More likely just busted your lip,” I muttered under my breath. I hoped I wasn’t about to be arrested for assaulting him, but heck, even if I were, it’d be worth it. I kept him from hurting Molly, and that was what mattered. Besides, I didn’t have a record.

The door to the café opened and Molly’s boss, Kelly, stepped outside, along with the head waitress and a few other patrons following behind her. “Thanks for coming, Trace,” she said to the officer. “I’m the one that called it in.”

He tipped his hat to her and smiled. “Hi there, Miss Rossyn,” he greeted, before asking, “Who wants to tell me what’s going on here?”

“I already told you. This son of a bitch punched me for no reason.” The real son of a bitch jerked his thumb in my direction.

“Only because you were about to put your hands on a woman.” I placed a protective arm around Molly’s waist. “No way were you going to hurt her again.” It wasn’t self defense, and I might still be arrested, but I hoped the police officer would realize what was going on here and cut me a little slack.

“I was barely touching her,” he protested to the cop. “I want you to arrest him.”

The uniformed officer—the name on his badge read T. Sheridan—directed his attention back to Kelly. “Miss Rossyn, you said you called it in. Did you see what happened?”

“I saw enough,” she said. “Molly, that’s my employee, she just got off work and was waiting out front for her fried.” She pointed to me. “Meanwhile, this jerk comes up to her, starts calling her nasty names and threatening her. He had her pinned against the building here, and that’s what I called you.”

“I see.” Office Sheridan nodded. “Would you say he was harassing her?”

Kelly nodded. “Oh, yes, definitely. He was loud, too.”

“He was,” Trish said from behind her. “The customers even heard it. He was like disturbing the peace or whatever it’s called.”

The slightest hint of a smile crossed the officer’s face. “Disorderly conduct,” he said. “That works. Get over against my car and put your hands up,” he barked at the asshole. “And whatever you don’t bleed on it. It was just washed.”

“Me? What about him?”

“Shut up, or I can an add resisting arrest your charges.” I watched as the cop reached into the asshole’s back pocket, probably looking for identification. As he pulled a wallet out, a plastic baggy containing something white fell onto the ground. I didn’t think it was flour.

“Well, well, well. Your night just got a heck of a lot worse.” Officer Sheridan looked inside the wallet. “John David Clements, you’re coming with me.”

I watched in amusement as the cop cuffed him and put him into the back of the squad car. Once he’d done that, he approached Molly.

“Are you okay, Miss?”

She nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you, Officer.”

“Do you need us to go to the station and give a statement or anything?” I asked.

“I will, yes, but tomorrow’s fine. With the drugs, he isn’t going anywhere until he sees the judge, and it’s Friday afternoon. That means he’ll be sitting in lock-up for a while.” The officer smiled at us. “You folks can go on home now. I’m glad you’re okay, ma’am.”

He started in the direction of his car.

“Are you coming by after your shift, Trace?” The question came from Kelly. “I made a key lime pie that I think you’ll love. It’s nice and sweet, but with a slightly tart finish. Kind of like me,” she added with a smile.

“In that case, I’ll see you soon.” He tipped his hat again. “Be sure and save me a slice, Miss Rossyn.” He got in squad car and began to drive away.

“I made that pie, Kelly,” Molly reminded her boss. Her expression was one of total amusement.

“Yes, I know you did, hon, but I’m sure you don’t mind me claiming ownership if it helps get me a date with a handsome police officer, do you?”