THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,380
certain what side of the double-edged sword I should fall on. “Thanks for that,” I reply. “Could you ah, not say anything tonight?” I was warned by my mom that it was going to get pretty crazy when word got out about my completion of BUD/s and pinning as a SEAL. My mom runs the CJJ Public Relations office in San Diego and she’s going to try her best to control everything possible.
“Of course,” the girl says, lying. “I won’t say a word.”
Smiling, I thank her and exit the restroom. I pull out my phone and text my mom to whine about being recognized. It’s hard enough trying to fit in with a bunch of alpha males without people hounding me to see what I look like and where I came from.
She texts back immediately, as I lean against the wall in the dimly lit hallway. Come to the office tomorrow so we can get ahead of it. We planned to give them a story in a week, might as well do it a little earlier than that. Just a small post about you with a photo. Maybe that will appease the masses for a while. It’s a big deal, Aara. It’s your life, so you don’t think anything of it, but people are always going to be curious. It’s the nature of the beast.
Sighing, I recognize the truth in her words. I reply that I’ll see her soon and tell her I love her. Mom’s reply is swift. Forever and ever. There’s a lump in my throat when I push off the wall and let another girl slide past me and into the restroom. Four men are looming where I need to pass to get back to my table.
“Hey there,” one says. He’s has blond hair, greasy skin, and a death wish. The way his eyes roam over my body I know nothing he says next is going to be pleasant. It’s an awful fact of life as a woman. We know immediately when there’s a threat in the atmosphere. Lucky for me, I’m not a normal woman. “Let me buy you a drink,” he says, his buddies chuckling, standing down behind him.
“No thanks,” I say, keeping my chin held high.
Big nasty dude replies, “That’s not nice. Why don’t you give me a smile, thank me for my offer, and have a drink with me? That’s what a good girl would do.” Okay, so this is where my eyes should bug out of my head. The part where my stomach sinks. Reality sets in. But I’m Aarabelle Dempsey and I might need my friend here tonight for confidence, but I don’t need help with this.
I step closer to him, my shoulders tight and body humming. “Excuse me? Did you just tell me what to do? No one tells me what to do.” It’s crowded in Mayton’s now. I bet the place is packed beyond code. This tiny hallway conceals me from my friends outside.
The man moves toward me, unfazed by my words and hostile posture. “Come on, sweetie. One drink. I’ll make sure you have a good time.” He steps toward me, his left foot forward, his right-hand snaking around my waist. The same time his sweaty hand meets my body, Luke appears, a brawny, commanding presence that morphs the atmosphere—ignites it with danger.
“Need anything Little Dempsey?” Luke drawls. His voice holds a bit of sarcasm, but his eyes are like loaded guns as they take in the man with his damn hand on my fucking body.
Clearing my throat, I say, “Nope.” With my right hand, I take his filthy arm from my waist and circle it so it bends an unnatural way, forcing his back to me, and his knees to hit the floor. I bend his arm behind his head and circle his neck with my left arm. “I can take care of this,” I finish speaking once I know I have him locked. He isn’t moving. He can’t.
Luke laughs, folding his arms across his chest. Dagger is now next to him causing a scene with his cackle. “You mother fuckers best be on your way before Little Dempsey dispatches of you, too,” Dagger says to the friends. They back away, and slink around the guys, not taking their eyes off me. My glare is unsympathetic—a promise to do to them what I did to their filthy, hideous friend. They apologize as more of my teammates circle around, now a hoard of muscular men who look like they deliver evil as a profession. Tattoos lick up their necks, their jaws are sharp and their gazes glint just enough to let everyone know what they’re capable of.
Even though he stinks like stale beer and unwashed hair, I lean down and whisper into the asshole’s ear. “Don’t ever touch a woman without her permission.” I put my foot in the center of his back and kick him forward unexpectedly. He doesn’t catch himself. He lands on his chest, arms splayed on the cement floor in front of Luke’s feet.
My heart is hammering. Not because of what I just did, I’ve done that before, unfortunately. The nerves are because I’m surrounded by people who I desperately want to consider me an equal. I don’t see how it’s possible when I have to fight off lechers during a night out. I breathe out long and hard and realize my shoulders are lifting and lowering with each breath. Luke’s stance is wide and commandeering as he peers down at the dude on the floor. He tilts his head to the door.
The jerk gets up, palms facing Dagger and Luke, and now Sanders and Hoffer. He explains he’s here on vacation and was looking for a good time.
Marissa barges in, a huge bite of food stuffed in her cheek. “I miss everything,” she exclaims throwing her hands up. “You okay?”
I nod at my friend. Dagger fidgets with his perfect hair and tells the guy, “Bro, it’s 2020. Don’t fuck with women. They fuck back. If they want a good time, they’ll ask for it.”
That brings a smile to everyone’s face, and the asshole storms off, the woman from the bathroom behind him. Did she do this? Did she set this up? My mind floods with the possibilities. I should apologize to the guys. For ruining their night. The music dies down, and it’s probably security—dealing with the three men who Marissa chased toward the guard. These guys have me in their world now, and they’re now experiencing a taste of what it’s like to be in my realm. I’ll report this ass to the police for touching me. I will make him rue the moment he laid eyes on me, and that’s one more burden I have to bear.
Sanders comes over and extends his hand to shake. “You’re a badass, Little Dempsey.”
I scoff. “Shut up, Sanders.”
“I mean it,” he counters, eyes earnest.
“He’s right,” Luke says as Dagger drains another beer. “You’re a badass.”
Dagger wipes his mouth, belches, holds his empty mug in the air toward me. “A dime who is down to commit some crime. My type of chick.”
Luke cringes. “That’s probably not too PC either.”
I laugh though, shaking my head. “It’s not PC, but it’s okay. He’s not trying to grope me.” Swallowing hard, I let my eyes skirt away from Hart’s. A camera flash makes me retreat a few steps. The bile rises from my stomach up to clog my throat. The ping of horrific familiarity forces me to wrap my arms around my stomach. The guys turn to where the loud flashes are originating. Big cameras, trained on me. “Fuck,” Luke whispers. “Block her,” he orders, positioning his wide body in front of where the group of cameras are facing.
They do. Even though I need their help, and I don’t like feeling this way, it means I’m part of something. They’ve accepted me. The guys form a tight circle around me to block the camera’s view. There are SEALs surrounding me who I haven’t met yet. Men who have no skin in my game. My stomach flips when Luke turns to glance at me over his shoulder as we walk as a group toward the exit.
“They won’t fuck with our woman,” Luke says. “You’ve done enough fighting tonight. We got this.”
He smirks. Dimples. My heart skips a beat. Not good.