Reckless (Brazen #2)(13)

She looked like she was having the time of her life. Only J.T. could see the pain flashing in her eyes.

Then one of the guys reached up and yanked at her hand. She tumbled down with a surprised yelp, right into the ass**le’s arms. He grinned and plastered his mouth to hers.

She began to struggle and kick wildly, but the guy wasn’t inclined to let her go. If anything he tightened his grip. Her whimper of fright spilled out. It was all J.T. could hear. No music. No loud conversations. Just her sound of fear.

J.T. exploded into action, shoving men out of his way as he closed in on his goal.

Tucker gave J.T. a relieved look as he saw him.

Without a word, J.T. reached out and snagged her wrist. He pulled, but the guy holding on to her was reluctant to let go. Until he saw J.T.’s uniform. His compliance wasn’t enough, though. J.T. wanted his blood.

He decked the guy right in the jaw, and he went down, almost taking Nikki with him.

J.T. grabbed her and hauled her against him. He shoved her behind him as he waited to see if he’d have any more trouble out of Mr. Obnoxious.

Satisfied that he was out for the count, J.T. turned to Nikki. Her usually clear blue eyes were cloudy with confusion and the haze of too much alcohol.

“Are you all right, honey?” he demanded as he touched her cheek in a gentle gesture.

To his horror, her eyes filled with tears. Hell.

He pulled her into his arms then looked over her head to Tucker. “How long has she been at this?”

“A few hours,” Tucker said. “Only got bad about a half hour ago.”

“Thanks for calling,” J.T. said with a nod. “I’m taking her home.”

“Give Lucas my regards when you talk to him,” Tucker said. “Tell him he won’t have to worry about Nikki coming in here again.”

“No, he won’t,” J.T. said shortly. “She’ll be back in over my dead body.”

Tucker nodded his satisfaction, and J.T. gathered Nikki under one arm, pressing her against his side. He urged her from the bar, keeping her in the protective shelter of his embrace until they were outside.

When he got to his car, he opened the back door and gently helped her in. She offered no resistance and crawled onto the seat, lying down and curling her knees protectively against her chest. He stood there looking at her for a long moment, his jaw clenched until he thought his teeth might break.

J.T. turned and nearly ran into Toby.

“I’ll head back over to the station,” Toby said. “You go ahead and take her home.” J.T. nodded. “Thanks, man.”

“You bet.”

J.T. walked around to the driver’s side and got in. They rode to her house in silence.

He glanced over his shoulder in the darkness to see if she was sleeping, but she was just lying there, her gaze fixed on some distant object. He sighed and turned his attention back to the road.

A few minutes later, he pulled up outside her house and cut the engine. He got out, opened the back door and reached in to pick her up. She offered no resistance and lay limply in his arms as he walked to her front door.

Hell, it wasn’t even locked.

“We’re going to have a talk about your safety measures,” he grumbled as he elbowed his way inside.

Her silence was starting to unnerve him. For a girl who always had something to say, this prolonged no-talking thing was starting to bug the shit out of him.

He laid her on the couch and knelt down beside her. He touched her cheek and ran his finger down to her lips.

“Are you okay, honey?”

Again her eyes filled with tears. One popped over the rim of her eye and slipped down, colliding with his finger. Damn.

“Don’t call me honey,” she said hoarsely. “I’m not your honey. I’m not your anything. I’m nothing to you. Just an easy lay.” He damn near exploded. Only the fear of scaring her kept him from losing his cool entirely.

“Don’t you ever call yourself an easy lay,” he ground out.

She shrugged. “What else would you call someone who all but forced you to have sex with her?”

Sarcastic and acerbic. It was always how she’d dealt with situations that left her at a disadvantage.

“I have a lot I want to say to you, Nikki, but damn if I’m going to do it when you won’t remember it the next morning. So what I’m going to do is get you undressed and in bed. But tomorrow? We’re going to talk, and I don’t give a damn if you have the worst hangover in history. It won’t get you out of this.” She gave him a faint smile. “Sometimes when you talk to me, it’s almost like I belong to you. It’s nice.” Then her smile faded. “But I’ll never belong to you. I don’t belong to anyone.”

She closed her eyes but not before he saw the renewal of moisture.

His chest heavy and aching, he picked her up again and carried her into the bedroom.

She didn’t stir as he undressed her then tucked her carefully into bed.

For a long moment he stood at her side, staring down at her in confusion. She spoke of belonging to him, of wanting to belong to him, as though she held deeper feelings, beyond a crush or sexual attraction.

Had he gotten her intentions wrong all along? Was the brazen, sex-kitten act just a cover-up for deep-seeded insecurities? Okay obviously the sex-kitten act was a farce.

She saved herself for you.