The Effing List - Cherise Sinclair Page 0,121

bartender had fled behind his bar and was making his own phone call. There’d be no backup from him.

“Gentlemen,” Valerie looked at the four effing men. “The young woman is incapacitated. We’ll take care of her—and you can leave.”

“Yeah, we can, can we?” Knuckles sneered and grabbed the girl’s arm hard enough to make her cry out.

Arm still around her waist, Scott half-dragged the girl, making straight for the only exit to the room—the opening where Valerie and the women stood.

“Get the bitches,” Dogget said. “Piers, enjoy yourself, yeah?”

This was getting out of control. Valerie felt her heart thumping like a pile driver. “Scott, Dogget. A bar fight won’t be good for your professional reputations.”

Scott’s lips lifted in a snarl. “Like I care. My wife’s getting a fucking divorce.”

Oh, spit. His wife owned the realty where he worked—she wouldn’t keep him on. Probably not Dogget either.

Scott’s eyes were bloodshot, and he stank of a long drinking spree. “You cunts fed Grayson your bullshit and got me fired.”

“Hey, there’s the cleaning spic.” Knuckles pointed at Andrea, who’d joined Gabi.

“Fuck, all of ’em belong to those high-and-mighty asshole Masters?” Pier lunged forward, grabbing Sally—pregnant Sally—who pulled back instinctually.

Valerie met her gaze and snapped, “Go get the men,” and kicked Piers in the balls.

Folding in half, he shouted in pain.

And Sally was free.

“Go,” Valerie shouted. As Sally fled, Knuckles lunged for her—and Josie booted his knee out from under him, giving Sally time to dart outside.

Recovering, Piers charged Valerie.

She braced, punched, and was shocked when her fist hit her target—his neck.

He staggered back.

Valerie glanced over.

Andrea had an arm around the young girl, while Gabi and Kim blocked Scott and Dogget from them.

A sound made Valerie dodge sideways into the main room. She barely avoided Piers’ fist. Again. Gods, she really wasn’t hitting hard enough.

He swung at her.

She ducked, kicked his knee, and barely slowed him down.

He punched, and she blocked with her forearms, but the power of his blow knocked her sideways. Fear filled her. He was way too strong for her.

A cry came from her right. Josie was on the floor. Knuckles lifted his foot to stomp her.

Valerie kicked a chair at him that hit his leg. As he reeled sideways, a fist slammed into Valerie’s shoulder.

Agony swept through her, and she let out a yell.

Piers roared in triumph.

Off balance, she lurched a step, hitting a table with her hip.

Sucking in a breath, she pushed upright and lifted her fists to defend herself. Pain stabbed through the arm Piers had punched. Gods, was it broken?

Not. Giving. Up.

Her mouth tightened, and she set her feet.

The bar door slammed open. The Masters charged across the room and attacked the effing bastards.

Cries of pain and shouts filled the room.

When Piers turned away to defend himself, Valerie let out a breath of relief.

“Try me, asshole,” Vance barked, facing off against Piers.

A step behind him, Ghost snapped out, “No. He belongs to Valerie.”

What?

Without waiting for Vance’s reply, Ghost rammed a fist into Piers’ jaw, sending him back a couple of steps. The man swayed, half-dazed.

“There.” In Arabic, Ghost snapped, “Now, lass, hit and knee him like you mean it.”

She wanted to protest, to whine, “I’m done, I’m hurt, I don’t want to.

But she’d flubbed everything earlier and knew it.

She stepped forward. Gritting her teeth, she swung from her toes, twisting her hips, and punched Piers in the belly with all her might.

With a horrible grunt, he folded in half. As his head went low, she rammed her knee into his face.

He went down like a toppled tree.

And owww, her knee felt as if it had hit a brick wall.

“Nicely done.” Ghost gave her a nod of approval. “Now you understand what I mean about not pulling your punches.”

“Hell, now that’s a Green Beret for you.” Saxon stood over Knuckles, who was out cold. “Never waste a teaching moment.”

Ghost winked at Saxon and stepped over Piers as if the man wasn’t there. “Now, my Professor, let me see the damage.”

His voice was calm, but his expression was cold, his eyes furious.

“Ghost…”

“Shh, it’s all over.” His gaze swept over her. Fingers gentle on her chin, he turned her face from side-to-side, then grasped her shoulders to—

She flinched.

“Your shoulder?”

The area was one big throbbing mass of pain. “The left.”

He unbuttoned her shirt far enough to pull it down. The shoulder joint was red and starting to swell. After running his fingers over her skin, he pressed in painfully. “Bruised to the bone, I’d guess, but it’s not broken. We’ll ice

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