Twice Tempted by a Rogue (Stud Club #2)(91)

Once the shower of glass cleared, the picture looked much the same. Gideon flat on his back on the bar; Rhys looming over him. Gideon’s fingers cinched tight around Rhys’s throat, cutting off his air. Meanwhile, Rhys took jab after powerful jab at Gideon’s ribs. Meredith heard a sick crack.

Oh, God. This wouldn’t stop until one of them was unconscious. Or dead.

Cora leapt toward the men, but Meredith grabbed the girl by the arm and held her back. There was no stopping these two. Anyone who tried to intervene would most certainly be injured, if not killed.

“Die,” Gideon growled, tightening his fingers about Rhys’s throat.

In response, Rhys grated out two words. “Make. Me.”

Rhys’s face had turned a frightening shade of red, but Meredith could tell Gideon’s strength was waning. With an almost regretful expression, Rhys raised his fist and took one last swing at Gideon’s jaw. Blood sprayed from the younger man’s mouth, spattering Meredith and Cora both. Cora shrieked. Gideon’s body went limp, his hands slumping back to the bar.

A tooth rolled to the floor and bounced off the flagstones.

And Rhys just kept dealing blows.

“Get up.” Thwack. “Is that the best you can do?” Thwack. “Stand, you miserable piece of filth.” He grabbed the senseless Gideon by the collar and shook him, slamming his head against the bar. “Wake up, you bastard, and try to kill me again.”

He released Gideon’s shirt, and the younger man’s head rolled back to the bar. Rhys sat hulking over him, bleeding and panting and sweating. And maybe—Meredith couldn’t quite tell—weeping a little bit, too.

Just when she’d gathered the composure to go to him, Rhys firmed his jaw and raised his heavy fist again, as if to deal Gideon a death blow. The room sucked in its breath.

“No!” Cora cried.

Meredith said, “Rhys, don’t!”

From behind them both, a man pushed through the crowd and rushed to grab Rhys’s arm. Meredith recognized him as Rhys’s friend and Cora’s sponsor. Mr. Julian Bellamy. She never imagined she’d be so glad to see that man again.

“Save it,” Bellamy said, breathing hard and using all his strength to rein in Rhys’s fury. “Save that blow for one who deserves it. I’ve found him.”

After a long, tense moment, Rhys lowered his arm, tugging it out of Bellamy’s grip. He blinked down at Gideon’s insensate form, like he didn’t even recognize the man. His gaze wandered the debris-strewn bar, as if he’d no idea how he’d even come to be there.

“Rhys?” she ventured.

His eyes lifted to hers, soulless and cold. Swallowing hard, he wiped his brow with his sleeve. The linen came away streaked with dirt and sweat and blood. “You wanted me angry,” he said, spitting a mouthful of blood to the side. “Are you happy now?”

She choked on a sob.

“So you’re angry. Brilliant. The timing couldn’t be better.” Mr. Bellamy grabbed hold of Rhys’s shirt and pulled, demanding his attention. “Save your wrath. I’ve found him. The man who killed Leo.”

Chapter Twenty-three

The ensuing silence was profound. Everyone, Meredith included, was struck dumb by the tableau of carnage and destruction. This tavern had seen more than its share of brawls, but never anything like this. No one knew what came next. Breaking the tension, Mr. Bellamy clapped Rhys on the shoulder. “Come along, Ashworth,” he said gently. “Let’s get you out of this place.”

After a moment’s pause, Rhys nodded. He slid down from the bar, landing with a resounding thud.

Bellamy surveyed Rhys’s appearance, wrinkling his nose at the blood and dirt. “Have you a fresh suit somewhere?”

Rhys dabbed his bleeding lip. “Up at my house.”

“Then up to the house we go.” Bellamy inclined his head in Meredith’s direction. “Mrs. Maddox, always a pleasure.”

Meredith nearly hugged the man, she was so grateful. No one here in the village would have been able to stop that scene and talk Rhys back down to earth.

Bellamy turned an appraising gaze on Cora. “Are you well?”

The girl nodded.

“Mind you don’t run off again. When we leave, you’ll be coming with us.”

Meredith tried to catch Rhys’s eye, but he refused to meet her gaze. “Rhys,” she said, grabbing his arm. “Look at me. Are you hurt?”

“Why do you care?”

“Of course I care.”

“Don’t. I don’t want you to.” He shrugged off her touch. “I can’t be near you right now.”

As the men left, the hounds trotted after them. Meredith stayed behind. She looked around at the wreckage and wondered to herself, which was in more pieces: her tavern, or her heart?

Cora rushed to Gideon’s side. Within seconds, he was moaning curses and writhing atop the bar, proving that Rhys hadn’t quite done him in.

For a long, fuming minute, Meredith contemplated finishing Gideon off herself. Then her practical nature prevailed. She didn’t want that sort of mess in her tavern, or that sort of guilt on her soul. Gideon simply wasn’t worth it. She did, however, want to keep him from bleeding all over the bar. She went for her kit of bandages and medicines, but when she carried the small box out from the kitchen, Cora took it from her hands.