Protecting What's His (Line of Duty #1)(36)

Ginger spun around and approached the jackass who no longer deserved a nickname. She spoke loud enough for anyone within earshot to hear. “Listen, you ignorant bastard, I have some news for you. There are literally dozens of loser, backward-hat-wearing, fart-joke-telling sons of bitches exactly like you in this establishment right now. You are not unique in any way. In fact, you are boring the shit out of me with your predictability. So finish your goddamn drink and pack it up.”

Then she picked up his untouched shot of tequila and tossed it back, reveling in the burn as it flowed down her throat.

The handful of patrons who could hear her tirade over the pounding music applauded and whistled for her. Even the guy’s friends poked him, repeating the highlights of her put-down. He didn’t look happy about it in the least. His face turned bright red, his fist clenching on the bar. Slightly alarmed, Ginger turned back around, intending to call for security once more.

A hand banded around her bicep, yanking her backward. The wooden bar bit into her upper back and her leg slammed into a sharp corner of the ice bin. She struggled to pull her arm from his hand to no avail. His friends shouted at him to let go, but his grip merely tightened.

“You’re a whore!” He yelled against her ear. She flinched at the volume of his voice. In a panic, she swung her eyes to the other end of the bar, where Amanda jogged toward her wide-eyed, dropping the drink she’d been pouring on the way to reach her.

Suddenly Ginger’s arm ripped free of his grasp and she slumped to the floor, hidden from view behind the bar. A loud crash, followed by shouting coming from the dance floor, had her scrambling to her feet.

Ginger’s eyes widened. Derek stood behind Nacho, gripping him around the throat with murder in his eyes.





Chapter Fifteen


Nacho’s hands tore at Derek’s grip, trying to free his neck so he could breathe. Likewise, Nacho’s friends appeared frantic, trying to pull Derek away from Nacho, but he wouldn’t budge.

Derek’s turbulent gaze met hers briefly and she read his silent question there. She nodded at him once to assure him she was unharmed. Then without warning, he slammed Nacho’s head against the bar with such force that Ginger jumped back to escape the blood spurting from his nose. Even the crunch of cartilage breaking could be heard over the pulsing music.

“Derek, no! Stop!”

The club had ground to a halt, everyone turning to see what the disturbance was about. Customers moved back and out of the way as Derek pulled Nacho off the bar and launched him onto the ground, then straddled his neck, clearly intending to continue the one-sided fight. Ginger knew she had to take action or Derek would seriously injure the other man.

Using the ice machine for leverage, she leaped on the bar and jumped down on the other side. She winced at the pain in her right leg, but pushed forward through the gaping club-goers to throw herself on Derek’s back. Ginger wrapped her arms around his chest, dug in her feet, and pulled to no avail. He still landed a punch squarely in Nacho’s face and reared back to hit him once more. She grabbed his arm and held on with all her might.

“Listen to me! You need to stop!” Out of the corner of her eye, Ginger saw the club’s two burly security guards pushing their way through the crowd. Thankfully, a different fight had just broken out between two girls and drew the guards’ attention away from Derek.

As pissed as she felt, it occurred to her that Derek, being a police lieutenant, would definitely not benefit from being involved in a bar fight. She needed to get him out of the club before the guards realized the real fight was on her side of the bar and tried to detain him. In his current irrational state, he might even fight back and the situation would only escalate.

She put her mouth against his ear and tried to reason with him. “Derek, please. I’m fine. You need to stop right now. You are going to kill him. I’m fine.”

His body shook with adrenaline. “He had his hands on you.”

“It’s my fault. I provoked him. But it’s over now.”

Derek turned his head and met her eyes. “Your fault?”

She flinched at his fury. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the security guards parting the sea of club-goers, nearly upon them. As an employee, she would have a better chance of getting Derek out of the bar without being held up by security.

And he had been defending her. Despite his extreme and unnecessary methods, a tiny part of her felt grateful that after years of inexcusable behavior from male customers, someone besides her had finally stepped in and put a stop to it. No accounting for subtlety.

“Get your shit.”

Ginger recoiled. She’d already made the choice to leave with him, but his high-handed tone infuriated her, made her want to change her mind. “You can’t just demand I leave in the middle of my shift!”

“I can shut this place down with one phone call. Give me a reason to do it. Please.”

Anger rapidly building inside of her, she shot to her feet. Nacho writhed on the floor in front of him, hands clutching his shattered nose. Beside her, Derek growled. He’d noticed the bleeding cut on her leg and looked ready to turn on Nacho once more.

The security guards reached Derek then, but he extricated his badge and barked something at them before they made the mistake of touching him. He turned to her, his eyes nearly black with fury. “Ginger. Get. Your. Shit.”

She turned toward the bar and signaled Amanda. Already having anticipated her request, the other woman tossed Ginger her purse, which she’d stashed in a cabinet beneath the register. Ginger mouthed a thank-you just as Derek put a hand on her back, then steered her, through their rapt audience, toward the door.