Off Limits (7 page)

Unfortunately, the front doors to the club have been locked and we are pointed to an exit that leads out into the side alley. I was hoping there would be a crowd of partygoers loitering around but they've all dispersed and we are alone. At least there is some lighting attached to the top of the building that illuminates the place fairly well.

I turn to head in the direction of the main street but James grabs my arm. I wasn't expecting that and teeter dangerously in my heels. He steps into me, grabbing one shoulder with one hand and one of my breasts with the other. He pushes me back against the wall and doesn't even try any sweet talk before he tries to stick his tongue down my throat.

I start to immediately struggle, fear fueling my strength.

"Get off me you fucking, pervert," I yell at him. I manage to push him off of me but he comes back stronger than ever. His hands are squeezing me painfully and he's muttering disgusting words like, "You feel so good" and "Are you gonna make me feel good, baby".

What a slime! Part of me is thinking that he's just a drunk trying to feel me up and another part tells me to take this more seriously than I am. But I just can't believe a guy that I was hanging with peaceably all night would try to assault me in a well-lit alleyway just steps from a main street.

After we engage in a fruitless battle of me trying to push his body away and him trying to feel me up, I finally do what every girl should do in this situation. I try to bring my knee up into his balls. Unfortunately, he's too close and I cannot get enough room to make a solid connection. My knee glances harmlessly off his thigh.

I suppose he gets tired of our banter because he brings his arm up and braces it against my throat, effectively cutting off my supply of oxygen. Now I start to panic as I realize this is so much more than a drunk trying to feel me up. I really start struggling again. This time, when he sticks his tongue into my mouth, I react on pure instinct. I bite down as hard as I can and I taste blood.

Nix

I'm driving through Manhattan as fast as I can but I don't want to risk getting pulled over by a cop. No telling what type of trouble Emily is in. I didn't bother asking her because I didn't want to waste time. As she was giving me the address of where she was, I was hopping into my jeans and slipping on a pair of flip-flops.

I was out the door and pulling a shirt over my head by the time I disconnected from her.

I make it to The Blue Room in twenty-five minutes and it looks deserted. I pull over to the curb and step out. I walk up to the doors but they are locked.

Figures!

Running my hand through my hair, I look left, then right. There is an alley that runs beside the club and I walk that way. As soon as I turn the corner, I see Emily heading towards me and sigh in relief. She looks fine.

Then I notice a guy behind her and my blood boils when I see him grab her arm. I take off toward them, murderous rage filling me when I see him mauling her up against the wall. She tries to knee him once but it doesn't hit the mark. He tries to kiss her and before I can reach them, the guy rears back from Emily and screams, "You bitch!"

Emily starts spitting onto the ground. He's holding his hand to his mouth and I can only assume she bit him.

Good girl and that thought alone diminishes a bit of my wrath.

Emily looks scared but she also looks pissed. I'm within just a few feet of them and I see the dude raise his hand like he's going to hit her. She sticks her chin out and stares him down and I am utterly amazed.

He starts to bring his hand down toward her face and that's when I lash out. I catch him by the wrist and shove him backward.

He's surprised and for a split second, I can see he thinks about charging me.

"Man...I wouldn't do it," I warn him. Emily comes to stand behind me and I'm glad I'm between her and this asshole. "You need to turn around and walk the other way."

I'm frighteningly calm despite my anger. There was a time in my life that I would probably have pounded the shit out of him, but I've learned to avoid fights if I can help it. It never seems to solve anything and only creates bruises and cuts.

More shit that needs healing.

The guy sneers at me and then looks at Emily. He thinks he's safe because I've given him a pass to walk away. "That bitch is a fuckin' tease. I was only takin' what she was offering." He punctuates that by wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, blood smearing across his face.

That's it. I'm going to kill the bastard.

I start toward him but Emily takes a hold of my wrist, lightly. It stops me in my tracks and I look over my shoulder at her.

"Please don't", she says softly. "Can you just take me home?"

Even though my blood feels like lava in my veins and I want to pound some respect into this douche bag, I immediately take in that Emily now looks completely overwhelmed by this situation. Her adrenaline is clearly waning and an urgency rises in me to make this all better for her. For once, I don't stop to analyze it.

I don't even glance back at the dude. Taking Emily's hand, I turn around and walk us out of the alley. She's wobbly on her feet and I don't know if it's because she's drunk or because she's teetering around in impossibly high heels. Which make her legs look freakin' amazing, by the way. I slow my pace so she doesn't end up breaking her ankle.

When we get to my Bronco, I unlock the passenger door. I reach in and grab a bottle of water I had sitting in there. I hand it to her and she doesn't hesitate when she takes a huge swig, swishes it around her mouth, and spits it out on the ground.

"Thanks," she says quietly.

It's quite a leg up into my Bronco so I hold onto her hand as she steps a crystal-studded foot up onto the running board then slings herself across the seat. I try not to notice her dress riding up and exposing her leg. I grit my teeth and close the door.

Once I pull myself up into the driver's seat, I look over at her. She's sitting with her hands clasped in her lap and her gaze looks a bit vacant as she stares out the side window.

"Are you okay?" I ask her.

She just nods her head but I see her bottom lip start to quiver a bit. My stomach clenches. Normally, a girl crying will freak me out and I'll do anything to get away. But now, I kind of want to take her in my arms and hold her...to reassure her that everything is okay now. My arm rises up on its own accord and as I reach out to her, I suddenly feel awkward. I'm not built for this. I don't do chivalrous and I don't do reassuring.

I do hard and tough.

My arm drops in my lap and I start the truck. Then I decide to be an asshole to prove I'm still me. "What the hell were you doing out there by yourself? How could you let yourself get in that situation?"

Emily's head snaps around so fast to glare at me, her hair flies in a fluid arc and comes to rest over her bare shoulder. I notice the bottom lip is no longer quivering and if looks could kill, I'd be oh, so dead. But I give myself some praise for my tough methods. She's angry now and doesn't look on the verge of collapse. At least I won't have to deal with tears.

"I didn't choose for this to happen, Nix." Her words are bitter and angry. "My friends ditched me and left me to fend octopus man on my own. I'm really sorry to inconvenience you tonight."

She spits those last words out and then turns her head back to stare out the window. Her shoulders are now stiff and not pitifully sagging the way they were just a few seconds ago. That should make me happy, but it doesn't.

I sigh. "Look, you're not inconveniencing me...I just—"

She cuts me off with another look, but this one is pleading. "Please don't. I've had a really bad night. I just got attacked and I don't need you to lecture me. Can you just take me to my apartment?"

"Is Fil there?"

"Yes. Passed out, I'm sure, but she'll be there."

Her voice...so soft and quiet...it slices straight through me. I usually don't have care or understanding in me, but tonight Emily needs it. She called on me and I answered. I need to see it through, no matter how hard it cuts against the grain.

"No. I'm not taking you to your apartment. You'll come back home with me. Let's get some food in you and let you get a good night's rest."

I don't even bother to wait for a response. I put the truck in drive and pull away from the curb. After a few blocks, I risk a glance at her. She's still staring out the passenger window and her eerie silence is beginning to spook me.

Mustering every shred of gentleness I may have buried deep somewhere—which is really scraping the bottom of the barrel—I say, "This wasn't your fault, Em."

Em? When did she become Em to me?

"I'm not so sure," she whispers. "Maybe I could have handled it better."

"You handled it just fine. You called someone to help you."

She reaches over and touches my shoulder lightly but I still feel the warmth of her skin coming off in waves. "Thank you for coming."

I look at her, glance back at the road then look at her again. "Sure. Not a problem."

Her hand falls away from me and I feel noticeably chilled with it gone.

****

We get to Linc's place and I help her out of the truck. Once she steps onto the pavement, I release her and we head inside. As soon as the door opens, Harley comes barreling out of the back bedroom. Rather than jump on me like he usually does, he heads straight to Emily but I'm able to grab his collar before he can leap up on her.

"Easy, Harley. Sit."

He immediately sits down and gives a whine toward Emily. She kneels to the carpeted floor and puts her arms around him. She clearly needs some type of comfort right now and I'm glad Harley can give it to her. Although I do wonder what it would feel like to have her arms wrapped around me like that.

I throw my car keys on the coffee table and head into the kitchen.

"When's the last time you ate?" I call out to her.

Her voice surprises me when it answers not but a few feet away. "I ate dinner around six. I'm not that hungry."

I look at her as I open the refrigerator door. She is so unbelievably gorgeous in that blue dress that fits her body like a second skin, I space out for a second and just stare at her. She returns my look unblinkingly.

Quickly putting my head into the fridge, I pull out some eggs, cheese, onions and peppers. "Well, I'm hungry and you might as well eat something too. It will help absorb some of the alcohol in your stomach."

She shrugs and takes a seat on a kitchen stool. "I didn't really drink that much tonight but I'll eat something if you are."

That damned dress rides up again, stealing my gaze and scattering my thoughts. I don't get it. It's not like I haven't seen plenty of hot women dressed in even more revealing clothes than what Emily is wearing right now so my reaction to her is bordering on the ludicrous side.

I get out a skillet and set it on the stove, turning the gas on. I throw a couple pats of butter in for good measure. Breaking open the eggs, I begin whisking them together but I keep my back turned to her when I casually ask, "So what happened tonight?"

Emily sighs and I hear her get off the stool. She steps up beside me and my whole body tenses although she does nothing more than takes the onion and starts to chop it. "I don't know. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. He seemed like a nice enough guy. There was a group of us hanging out and dancing all night. And then all of a sudden, my friends were gone and his were gone, and we were left alone."

She pushes the pile of chopped onions aside and starts on the pepper.

"He just got really weird all of a sudden."

"How?" I ask, although I'm sure the answer is going to piss me off.

I can sense her shudder beside me. "He got grabby and demanding. He was insisting he walk me home...and then he wanted me to go to his apartment. He was pretty drunk so I couldn't talk him down..."

She trails off, sounding bewildered that someone would do that to her. I break the tension by scooping up the onions and peppers and throwing them in the skillet.

"You did the right thing in calling me," I tell her as I push the vegetables around in the pan "You trusted your instinct and it was right."

"I guess."

She doesn't say anything while I continue to cook. After I throw the eggs and some cheese on top of the veggies, I ask, "Why do you sound so unsure?"

Emily walks back and sits on the stool. I'm proud I maintain direct eye contact with her, hitched up skirt be damned. She leans forward onto the counter and rests her chin on her hand. "He just seemed so nice and normal the whole night. How could I have missed it?"

It's a good question and I didn't have the answer. I've learned over the years, and particularly while in Afghanistan, that people can be very good at hiding their true nature. It makes it difficult to ever give anyone the benefit of the doubt.

I flip the mess of cheesy eggs onto a plate and bring it over to where Emily is sitting. I take two forks out of the drawer and hand her one.

"Eat up," I tell her.

She just looks at the huge pile of eggs on a single plate, and each of us holding a fork. She arches an eyebrow at me in amusement.

"What? No sense in dirtying two plates when we can both eat off the same one."

"Agreed," she responds and digs in.

After we finish, I rinse the plate off and put it in the dishwasher.

"Come on. You can sleep in my room and I'll take the couch."

"I can't let you do that. I'll take the couch."

"I may be an asshole most of the time, but I do know proper manners. You take my bed and I'll sleep on the couch. And that's final."

"Careful, Nix," she teases. "You may lose your asshole status."

I snort. No way was I losing that. I lead her back to my bedroom and reach into one of my drawers, pulling out a large t-shirt.

I throw it at her. "Here. You can wear this tonight. You know where the bathroom is. I'll see you in the morning."

Heading toward the door, she calls after me. "Thank you, Nix. For everything."

I throw my hand over my head in a wave of acknowledgment. Normally, praise or thanks makes me feel awkward, and it's no different here. But I also have a well-satisfied feeling as I walk back into the living room.