by. She laughed, indulging him for a second. She pointed to one of the other waitresses. This wasn’t her table.
I didn’t like the look in the guy’s eyes one bit. I started to rise.
“Torch,” George said. “I need your help with something. And I’d like to think I can count on your discretion.”
“What?”
“As much as I enjoy having her around ... I mean, I never had a daughter of my own. That girl is the closest thing to it. And ... she’s got a quick mind. She’s hungry for something. She just doesn’t know what.”
“George,” I said. “What the hell are you trying to say? Spit it out.”
“Fine,” he said. “I need you to make sure Sydney doesn’t thrive here as much as she wants to. I need you to help me help her find a reason to go back to Connecticut, where she belongs.”
“What? You just said she’s been an asset to you. She told me you’re the one who encouraged her to come out here. To follow in your footsteps and break free of your family.”
George sighed. “That’s all true. Unfortunately, my family still has the ability to make things difficult for me.”
I heard Sydney squeal. Another of the guys had stood up and blocked my view of her.
“Listen,” I said. “George, I’m gonna need you to leave me out of your family drama.”
He was still talking as I turned my back on him. My pulse pounded in my ears.
Sydney was gone. I saw her flaming red hair trailing down the hallway toward the restrooms. The first guy had a hand on her arm; he was pulling her into the shadows.
I pulled the walkie clipped to my belt and signaled Brax. Where the fuck were the probies?
Then I saw them. The asshole had his hands on Sydney’s shoulders. He leaned in close, his lips brushing her cheek. Her eyes were wide with fear.
Fucking hell. His hand moved up her thigh. The second undercard fight started, and the crowd grew thicker, blocking my path to her. I would kill him. I would bounce his fucking skull off every wall in the bar.
Then I heard another scream. His. As I finally broke through the crowd and got to Sydney, I found the dude doubled over on the floor, clutching his balls.
Chapter Twelve
Sydney
He came so fast. One second before, the guy was staggering, slurring his words. All hands. All gross.
The next second he wrapped his arm around me, quick as a snake.
“Come on, baby,” he whispered in my ear. Sweat poured down his face. He licked my ear. The creep actually licked. My. Ear.
“Let me see what’s under that wolf,” he said, looking straight at my chest.
Then his other hand came up. A second later, he’d have it up my shirt.
I kept my eyes locked with his, a smile on my face. Keep their focus away from your hands. I’d taken a self-defense class when I was sixteen years old. The biggest lesson was to develop a strategy not to get in a dangerous situation. But once you did. It was balls or eyes. The two most vulnerable areas.
I brought my knee up. Hard.
He froze for a moment. Suspended in time before his impaired brain caught up with the sensation between his legs.
Then it did.
He took two steps backward then doubled over, puking.
After that, a wall of muscle slammed into him with the force of a freight train. Torch plowed him into the back wall. Snarling, he grabbed the guy by the shirt and hauled him back up.
He was still trying to catch his breath from the blow I delivered. It was as if he hadn’t even processed that the biggest, baddest motherfucker in the bar was about to rip his lungs out and make him wear them as a scarf.
“Torch!” I yelled.
He’d kill him. I saw red murder in his eyes. “Torch!” I yelled again. I knew better than to put myself between them. I shouted a third time.
Torch’s eyes flicked to mine. Then three of the prospects got there. Torch’s nostrils flared. Spit flew out of his mouth as he rounded on the guy.
“Get your sorry ass out of here,” he said through gritted teeth. “If I ever see you in town, let alone the Den, I’ll fucking kill you. You got that? You ever so much as look at any one of these girls again …”
He shoved the guy hard. He crashed into one of the prospects. They caught him, grabbing the asshole under the arms. The last