Sucker Punched (19 page)

Watching Macy work has made me twitchy. And kind of drunk. Every time a guy mentally undresses her or flirts with her, I’ve knocked back a drink instead of going over there and rearranging his face with my fists.

I’ve had
a lot
to drink.

I hate the way their eyes follow her as she hands out flutes of champagne. Some laugh and joke with her. Others throw out these smooth-as-sandpaper pickup lines. But all of them have one very annoying thing in common—they think they actually stand a chance with her.

Yeah, well I’ve got news for those sorry fuckers. The only guy Macy’s going home with is me.

Savannah crosses my line of sight, plopping down on the bench next to me. “Just pee on her and get it over with.”

“What?” My brows slam together as I glance over at my brother’s girl. Has she been drinking? Because that didn’t make a lick of sense.

“Go on.” She waves in Macy’s direction. “Mark your territory so everyone knows she’s taken.”

Scowling, I resist the urge to roll my eyes and instead lean back against the wall, crossing my arms. “Macy’s not my girl.” 

She’s just
a
girl. A girl I don’t want to share with anyone.

Fuck. 

“Then why are you staring at her like a jealous boyfriend?”

Her smug grin has my scowl deepening. It’s likely permanent now. “Where’s Declan?” I ask. “Go bug the shit out of
him.
”

Savannah takes my jab in stride by sticking out her tongue like a five-year-old. “He’s talking shop with Jimmy around here somewhere.”

James Dormandy is the owner of this hotel and several others across the nation, but don’t let his pretty-boy looks or billion-dollar bank account fool you. Before he graced the cover of
GQ
and
Forbes
in his Prada suits, he got his start hustlin’ for Salvatore Giannetti, boss of the Giannetti crime family.

On the outside it might seem like he’s gone legit, but those who know about The Pit know that’s not true. Jimmy runs the biggest illegal fight ring in Boston, right out of the basement of his fancy-ass hotel.

I search the crowd until I spot him talking to Declan in a corner. He nods to whatever Declan says before bringing his glass up to his mouth and taking a swig of the amber-colored liquid. I watch them for a few seconds longer, noting Declan’s relaxed stance. 

He seems to like Jimmy okay, but I’m not completely sold. It’s hard to trust someone who knows how to make a body disappear.

I can’t say shit, though. It’s
my
fault he’s even working for that asshole.

Awhile back I had a bit of a gambling problem, just like my old man. Guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. 

I got into some trouble, lost money I didn’t have, and instead of handling it like a man, I dragged my baby brother into it. I can’t count the number of times he bailed my sorry ass out of a jam, and what do I do in thanks?

I force him into a deal with the devil in an effort to save my own ass. It was just supposed to be a means to an end, but Declan’s a good fighter. He’s fucking vicious in that ring. That’s why I brought him into this, because I knew he’d beat whoever they pit him against.

But the more fights he won, the more money they threw at him until it was impossible for him to leave. Who in their right mind would walk away from twenty-five grand a fight? 

I just hate that he’s hitched his wagon to someone as dangerous as Jimmy. I hate myself more for being the one to hitch it for him.

Oh man, if my mom were still alive. . . I don’t even want to think about what she’d say to me. In a way, I’m glad she didn’t live to see the person I’ve become.

Well, now I’m thoroughly depressed. 

I scan the crowd again, looking for Macy, but I don’t see her anywhere. I crane my neck and finally get a glimpse of her on the other side of the room.

She’s talking to someone, and she looks pissed.

Craning my neck a little farther, I get my first look at the suit who just made her shit list. Is that her manager or something? He looks familiar. 

Did I see him last time I was—

Recognition floods me in prickly waves of unease.

That’s the asshole from the bathroom. The one who ruined the best night of my life.

Whatever he says next causes a look of absolute disgust to cross her face. It would’ve had me on my feet and heading over there if I wasn’t already weaving through the packed living room, pissing people off as I bump into them. 

Some of them snap at me to watch it. Some curse at me under their breaths. I give zero shits that I just made them spill their free drinks. 

Not when that dumbass motherfucker just put his hands on Macy.

My temper flares at breakneck speed, burning hot and fierce as it moves into deadly territory. I bulldoze my way through the rest of the crowd, fantasizing about how badly I’m going to break his fucking face, when I catch a snippet of what he’s hissing in her ear.

“You’re here to
serve
me, aren’t you? So quit being a cunt and do your fucking job.”

“Let go.” Macy struggles in his grip, but it only makes his fingers tighten around her upper arm. “You’re hurting me.”

She sees me approaching before he does. Relief momentarily softens her features, until she registers the look on my face and realizes I’m about to straight-up kill him. 

Needle dick here is so far up his own ass that he doesn’t realize they have company until I grab his wrist and wrench it back, making him cry out in pain. His eyes swing up to mine as I forcibly remove him from Macy. First they convey surprise, then outrage. He might’ve really laid into me if my fist hadn’t just smashed into his nose.

Shit.

Fucker’s face is harder than it looks. Pain flares in my hand, throbbing like a goddamn heartbeat.

He stumbles back as Macy scrambles out of the way, her silver tray clanging to the floor. I grab his lapel to keep him from hitting the ground like a ton of bricks, but it’s not out of the goodness of my heart. 

It’s so I can hold him in place while I pummel the shit out of his face.

The crunch under my fist doesn’t stop me. Neither does the sting of my knuckles splitting from one too many blows. The only thing that stops me from sending his sorry ass into the afterlife—and my unapologetic ass to prison—is an arm wrapping around my neck in a chokehold.

My chest heaves as I’m hauled back, letting the asshole slump to the ground. His nose is crooked, his eye swollen shut. My fist feels raw and it’s covered in blood. I cut my knuckles on some of his teeth, but I’m not sure which ones.

Too many of them are missing now.

I smirk down at his mangled face. Maybe next time he’ll think twice before being such an obnoxious prick.

“You’re so fucking dead,” Declan mutters from behind me, tightening his arm around my neck. 

So
he’s
the one who dragged me away. 

I should’ve known. My nostrils are burning from the stench of too much Axe body spray.

Jimmy busts through the crowd of bystanders with a fleet of security in tow. “Somebody mind telling me what the hell’s going on?”

I shrug as best I can with Declan’s arm wrapped around my neck like a python. “He was rude to the lady, so I taught him some manners.”

His scowl’s directed at me while I talk, then flicks over to Macy and Savannah, who are huddled together. Savannah strokes the arm of a clearly shaken Macy, and rage swells inside me all over again.

She looks fucking terrified. I could
kill
him for putting that fear into her, but then an unsettling thought occurs to me when her scared eyes meet mine before darting away.

Is she afraid of
me
?

Jimmy turns and murmurs to the closest guard flanking him. “Get Mr. Welch cleaned up and see that he makes it home. Find Callum and tell him Mr. Welch is banned from the premises.”

“Yes, sir.” The man nods, then signals to his crew member to help him. Together they lift the bloodied asshole off the floor, making him groan, before carrying him out of the room.

Declan releases me, and I shoot him a look. He doesn’t look quite as pissed as he probably did a minute ago, but he still doesn’t look happy with me.

Yeah, well the feeling’s mutual. I wouldn’t go off on someone like that without a good reason. He should know that.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Jimmy places his hand on Macy’s shoulder, guiding them away from prying eyes.

I watch their exchange the whole time, even though I can’t hear it anymore. I don’t shy away when their gazes lift to meet mine a minute later, a dead giveaway that they’re talking about me. 

Eventually he pats Macy’s back as he says something to her. She nods and disappears from the room, heading down the hallway.

Shit, I hope I didn’t get her in trouble. . .

Declan smacks my chest. “What the hell happened back there?”

“I don’t know.” I look down at my hand, stretching out the tight, achy joints. The blood’s already starting to dry. And would you look at that? I’ve got some on my shirt.
Fan-fuckin’-tastic.
“He grabbed her arm and called her a cunt. Everything after that’s just a blur.”

“Damn.” The corners of Declan’s mouth turn down. “I kinda wish I’d let you kill him now.”

Jimmy stops in front of us. “Mr. Whitmore,” he says to me. “Seems I owe you a debt of gratitude for coming to my employee’s rescue.”

I glance at Declan, slightly confused. “Don’t mention it.” The last thing I expected was to be
thanked
for nearly beating a guy to death in the penthouse suite of his fancy hotel. “I should, uh, go clean myself up.” I lift my busted hand.

“Of course.” Jimmy smiles, but it doesn’t reach his dead, shark eyes. 

It’s fucking creepy.

Clearing my throat, I excuse myself. People’s eyes follow me as I leave, but I don’t give a shit. The only thing I care about is finding Macy.

I’m halfway down the hall when I see her round the corner, so I stop and wait for her to come to me. She’s barefoot now, clutching her heels and keys in one hand, while the other scrolls through her phone. As soon as she looks up and spots me, her feet quit moving.

We stare at each other for what seems like a lifetime. I can’t get a good read on her. I can’t tell if she hates me for what I did, or if I embarrassed her, or what.

I’m not sorry for defending her, but I didn’t have to take it as far as I did. I didn’t have to beat him within an inch of his life. I honestly don’t know how it happened. The second I saw his hands on her, I. . .snapped.

Macy starts walking toward me, each step faster than the last. I fully expect her to chuck a shoe at me, or slap me, so I brace myself for the worst and instead I get the best.

I get a hug. I’m too shocked to move as her arms wrap around my waist and her head rests on my shoulder. 

Hugging is awkward. I shouldn’t be this close to someone unless we’re having sex. But instead of feeling uncomfortable and pulling away as quickly as possible, I pull Macy tighter because she’s not close
enough
.

The fuck is wrong with me?

I slide my hand along her back, trying not to groan at all the warm, soft skin under my fingers. Jesus Christ, she smells so fucking good.

“You’re not mad at me?” I know I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, but I can’t help it. I could’ve gotten her fired.

Hell, maybe I
did
.

Pulling away, she swipes moisture from her cheeks. “Nobody’s ever stood up for me like that.”

“I’ve got your back, Duchess. Always.” With my good hand, I reach up and wipe another tear.

Her eyes drop down, going wide when she sees my not-so-good hand. “You’re bleeding!”

“I think most of that’s his.” 

She grabs my arm and leads me into the nearby bathroom, flipping on the light before she sets her stuff on the countertop. Turning on the water, she waits until it’s warm enough to bring my hand under the faucet, where she gingerly cleans me.

It’s been a long time since someone fussed over me. I kind of miss it.

“Did I get you in trouble?”

Macy’s eyes meet mine in the mirror. “No. He said I could take the rest of the night off.”

“What else did he say?”

Shrugging, she turns the water off. “He apologized for his guest’s behavior. Said he’d have done the same thing if he saw that guy accost me.”

“Why did he?”

She fishes a hand towel out of the cabinet and dries me off, refusing to meet my gaze.

“Tell me what the fuck happened.”

Macy sighs. “I don’t know if you recognized him, but that was the guy who wanted in the bathroom the night we. . .you know.”

“Fucked.”

She gives me a pointed look, but continues without correcting me. “He saw me tonight and said I looked familiar. I thought he was just trying to hit on me, but then he remembered I was the ‘whore from the bathroom.’ Long story short, he tried to pay me for sex, and when I said no, he got irate.”

That motherfucker’s lucky I only broke his nose and knocked out some teeth. I should’ve castrated him, too.

“I’m not a violent guy, but. . .” I shake my head, my jaw clenching as I remember the blinding rage I felt when he grabbed her. “I wanted to kill him, Macy. I
would’ve
killed him if Declan hadn’t yanked me back.”

Touching her arm, I inspect her skin for any marks he might’ve left. It’s still red, but I can’t tell if it’ll bruise or not.

“I’m fine.” She carefully pulls away, like she doesn’t want me touching her. I’m not at all prepared for how much it fucking stings. “I just want us to go home, okay?”

“Us” and “home” are two words I generally don’t associate with each other, but I guess it’s true. My home is her home now. It’s
our
home.

I inwardly cringe at the realization, then briefly wonder how I got myself into this mess, but really it’s quite simple. I think with the wrong head when it comes to Macy.