hits my hand was numb and the man was no longer responding. I could only tell he was still alive from the blood that bubbled from his mouth as he struggled to take a labored breath.
“You really want to go down for murder over some fucking junkie hooker? Do you have any idea what they do to cops in prison?”
I pushed to my feet, staring down at the bloodied mess I had created.
“I’m not a hooker, I’m a dancer.”
I took a step back, my jaw clenched as I struggled to keep myself from killing this asshole.
“Shut the fuck up, Brock,” my voice was low, animalistic.
“Thank you,” a small voice called from behind me. I closed my eyes, hoping that I was finally going to come face-to-face with the woman who had changed my entire world. I turned to face her and my heart sank into the pit of my stomach. Sitting on the ground hugging her knees was a terrified woman with long dirty-blonde hair. I raised my eyes to Brock who glanced to his right. On the ground a few feet away was the fire-red wig. I looked to the sky, cursing myself for being such a fucking idiot. As the rage gave way to reality, I could now feel the blood pulsing through my hand as my knuckles throbbed and the slight breeze over the broken flesh sent sharp stabs of pain up my wrist.
“Is he dead?” Brock yelled and I had to fight the urge to punch him in the mouth just to shut him up.
“Doesn’t fucking matter.” I stepped closer and the woman cowered, her hair hanging in her face.
I sank down on my knees, reaching slowly toward her face and brushed her hair to the side, tucking it behind her ear. Big green eyes met mine, but the right eye was bruised with a purpling ring that extended into her eyebrow. I ran the pad of my finger over it and she winced, pulling back from my touch.
“It’s swollen. That should go down in a few days. The bruise isn’t anything you can’t hide with a little makeup.” I held out my hand to her, palm up. She glanced at the blood that had run into my fist while I was beating that prick. “It’s okay. It’ll wash off, darlin’.”
She slipped her shaking fingers in mine, and I squeezed her hand, pain shooting through me as the wounds pulled open, but I didn’t loosen my grip. I stood, pulling her up to her feet.
“We need to get the fuck out of here, Bishop. I am not going down for a murder.”
“Go,” I called out to him, keeping my eyes on the woman.
“Go?”
“Go back inside and enjoy your evening. Tell the guys I got a call from work and I had to go.” I turned to look at him to make sure he understood everything I was saying.
“What about…”
“I’ll take care of it. Go. They are probably ready to send out a fucking search party.”
I watched Brock shake his head before retreating to the front of the club to rejoin the party.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Amber, like the color,” she replied and I glanced over at the wig that lay in the dirt. “That’s why I wear the red wig.”
“So is that your real name or the stage name?”
“It’s my real name. I’m not a dancer. Not really. I mean…you do what you have to do sometimes.”
I gently grabbed ahold of her hair, which hung over her shoulder.
“I like this better. It suits you.”
She smiled, revealing two deep dimples, and I knew that regardless of why I’d helped her, I was glad I had.
“I should probably go.” Her gaze dropped to her feet and I used my good hand to tilt her chin up so she would look at me again.
“You and I have a pretty big secret in common now.” I glanced at the asshole who lay in the grass a few feet away. Her eyes went wide.
“I won’t say anything, I swear.” She began shaking her head back and forth and taking a step back from me.
“I know you won’t because he isn’t going to die.”
“He isn’t?”
We both looked at the man as I grabbed a cigarette from my pocket and stuck it between my lips.
“Unfortunately.” I pulled a lighter from my front pocket and
“You really want to go down for murder over some fucking junkie hooker? Do you have any idea what they do to cops in prison?”
I pushed to my feet, staring down at the bloodied mess I had created.
“I’m not a hooker, I’m a dancer.”
I took a step back, my jaw clenched as I struggled to keep myself from killing this asshole.
“Shut the fuck up, Brock,” my voice was low, animalistic.
“Thank you,” a small voice called from behind me. I closed my eyes, hoping that I was finally going to come face-to-face with the woman who had changed my entire world. I turned to face her and my heart sank into the pit of my stomach. Sitting on the ground hugging her knees was a terrified woman with long dirty-blonde hair. I raised my eyes to Brock who glanced to his right. On the ground a few feet away was the fire-red wig. I looked to the sky, cursing myself for being such a fucking idiot. As the rage gave way to reality, I could now feel the blood pulsing through my hand as my knuckles throbbed and the slight breeze over the broken flesh sent sharp stabs of pain up my wrist.
“Is he dead?” Brock yelled and I had to fight the urge to punch him in the mouth just to shut him up.
“Doesn’t fucking matter.” I stepped closer and the woman cowered, her hair hanging in her face.
I sank down on my knees, reaching slowly toward her face and brushed her hair to the side, tucking it behind her ear. Big green eyes met mine, but the right eye was bruised with a purpling ring that extended into her eyebrow. I ran the pad of my finger over it and she winced, pulling back from my touch.
“It’s swollen. That should go down in a few days. The bruise isn’t anything you can’t hide with a little makeup.” I held out my hand to her, palm up. She glanced at the blood that had run into my fist while I was beating that prick. “It’s okay. It’ll wash off, darlin’.”
She slipped her shaking fingers in mine, and I squeezed her hand, pain shooting through me as the wounds pulled open, but I didn’t loosen my grip. I stood, pulling her up to her feet.
“We need to get the fuck out of here, Bishop. I am not going down for a murder.”
“Go,” I called out to him, keeping my eyes on the woman.
“Go?”
“Go back inside and enjoy your evening. Tell the guys I got a call from work and I had to go.” I turned to look at him to make sure he understood everything I was saying.
“What about…”
“I’ll take care of it. Go. They are probably ready to send out a fucking search party.”
I watched Brock shake his head before retreating to the front of the club to rejoin the party.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Amber, like the color,” she replied and I glanced over at the wig that lay in the dirt. “That’s why I wear the red wig.”
“So is that your real name or the stage name?”
“It’s my real name. I’m not a dancer. Not really. I mean…you do what you have to do sometimes.”
I gently grabbed ahold of her hair, which hung over her shoulder.
“I like this better. It suits you.”
She smiled, revealing two deep dimples, and I knew that regardless of why I’d helped her, I was glad I had.
“I should probably go.” Her gaze dropped to her feet and I used my good hand to tilt her chin up so she would look at me again.
“You and I have a pretty big secret in common now.” I glanced at the asshole who lay in the grass a few feet away. Her eyes went wide.
“I won’t say anything, I swear.” She began shaking her head back and forth and taking a step back from me.
“I know you won’t because he isn’t going to die.”
“He isn’t?”
We both looked at the man as I grabbed a cigarette from my pocket and stuck it between my lips.
“Unfortunately.” I pulled a lighter from my front pocket and
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