One Foot in the Grave (Carly Moore #3) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,8

I unsuccessfully tried to pry his arm away.

His free hand was between our bodies, fumbling with his jeans.

Panic washed through me, and I had a momentary inner war over how to handle this—his hand would absorb the blow of my knee to his groin and my arms were pinned, which meant I couldn’t reach up and claw his face.

The next thing I knew, his weight was gone, and a large figure was slamming his fist into Blake’s face.

Blake flew backward and landed on his ass in front of Max’s closed office door, staring up in surprise and then anger. He started to get up, but the man next to me growled, “Stay down.”

I turned in surprise to see…Wyatt.

Chapter Three

Wyatt glared at the man, his hands fisted at his sides.

“What the hell is goin’ on?” Marco called out behind me.

I turned to him, still in shock over what had just transpired, and embarrassed to be in the middle of it.

“I caught this asshole tryin’ to force himself on Carly,” Wyatt growled. Then he turned his murderous gaze on Marco. “Where the hell were you?”

“Me?” Marco shot back, his anger rising.

“Stop it!” I protested.

“I could have you arrested,” Blake shouted, unsuccessfully trying to get to his feet.

“You’re the one about to be arrested,” Wyatt shot back. “For attempted rape.”

Was he out of his mind? The last thing I wanted was to attract attention. I’d gotten lucky several months back, after the whole Carson Purdy debacle.

“Rape?” Blake shouted in indignation. “I wasn’t tryin’ to rape her! I was trying to show her the pictures of the bones on my phone!” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it up as proof.

“You expect me to believe that cockamamie bullshit?” Wyatt sneered.

“Wyatt,” I said in an exhausted sigh, “just let it go.”

“Let it go?” he demanded.

I held his gaze, shocked to see the fury on his face. “Let it go,” I repeated, quieter this time.

“Come on, Carly.” Marco reached out to me and I took his hand, on the verge of breaking down. “Let’s go out back and get some air.”

I nodded as his fingers wrapped around mine and he tugged me to the back door. He shot a look to Wyatt. “Shouldn’t you be gettin’ back to the bar?”

I didn’t get a chance to see Wyatt’s face, but he stormed off to the dining area while Marco led me out back.

The cool air hit my skin and I pulled my hand from Marco’s. He started to give me a hug, but I pushed him back. “I can’t have anyone touchin’ me right now.”

He slowly lifted his hands. “Okay,” he said softly. “Tell me what you need.”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” he said, walking over to my car. “How about we just sit for a moment?”

“Okay.” I felt foolish over being this shaken up. I was used to dealing with a rough crowd and I rarely got upset, but this one clung to me.

Marco sat on the lid of my trunk, and I leaned my butt against it, staring at the brick wall of the rear of Max’s Tavern.

“What did Wyatt walk in on?” Marco asked. “What made him think you were about to be raped?”

I brushed stray hairs from my forehead, glad my back was to him. “I think it looked pretty bad. I wasn’t sure of his intentions, so Wyatt’s accusation didn’t come out of left field. Blake had me pinned to the wall with his arm across my chest, his body leaning into mine, and he was fumbling with his pants.”

“Jesus, Carly…” Marco said in horror and disgust. “Do you really believe he was trying to show you some photos?”

“Maybe,” I said. “He’s been talkin’ about those damn bones all night, and he’s had more drinks than I could count, which might be why he was leaning into me. He could barely stand upright.”

“Why’d you keep servin’ him?” he asked with a hint of reprimand.

“Hey!” I glanced over my shoulder at him. “I wasn’t the one servin’ him. He was in Ruth’s section, but truth be told, all his friends kept buyin’ him drinks, so she probably had no idea how many he’d had.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

I gave him a sharp nod and turned back to face the wall. We were quiet for a few moments, the world completely silent. That was one of the things I loved about Drum, the quiet. It gave me room to think, although sometimes that was as