Razed (Barnes Brothers #2)(16)

The kid had laughed it off and kept talking.

If Keelie hadn’t intercepted, she suspected the son of a bitch might have tried to take a swing at the kid. Tayvione was a twenty-year-old jock with more muscles than sense, but he was a nice kid. Nice, but that wouldn’t stop him and his friends from jumping into a mess if Hawk decided to pick a fight.

Because Hawk went through his life looking for trouble.

Keelie had avoided trouble most of her life just by realizing what trouble looked like.

An * who tried to pick a fight with a kid wasn’t her idea of a great guy.

And if Zane would just—

“So. When you want to go out again?”

She gave him a tight smile and reached for her Coke. Now was the fun part. “I don’t think that’s a great idea.” Hawk . . . like hell she was calling him that name.

His face underwent a slow, subtle change. She pretended not to see as she flagged down the waitress. “Can we get our checks? Split the ticket.” She’d already mentally calculated her food and had a twenty in her pocket. Once the bill was paid, she was out of there. She’d call Zane from the road.

As the waitress disappeared, Hawk leaned back in the seat, eying her, his dark gaze slitted and glinting.

“What . . . did I do something wrong?” He smiled, and it was a good effort, she had to admit. “I don’t mind picking up the tab, ya know. My mom raised a gentleman.”

Yeah? Then why didn’t Ani set me up on a date with him? She barely managed to keep the question behind her teeth. Out loud, she said, “I usually pay my way on the first date.”

If a date tanked, she always paid. Otherwise, she went with the flow. There was just no way she was letting a guy like this buy her anything—even a peppermint from the dish up front. He’d want something in return. Men like him just did. She’d learned that lesson a long time ago.

The waitress came by and deposited the ticket and Keelie had the money out before she could disappear. “Okay, Hawk. Thanks. You have a good night.”

She didn’t bother lying and saying she had a good time.

Keelie didn’t see the point.


*

Traffic sucked.

Zane almost sent her a message, several times over, but figured she wouldn’t want to be bothered during the date. That made him want to chew nails, but again, he had no reason to be angry.

He might not be able to help being jealous, but he could damn well deal with the anger and he’d keep it under control if it killed him.

Climbing out of the car, he surveyed the parking lot. The battered VW Bug she drove was parked near one of the lights, so she was still—

The sound of a scuffle caught his ears.

Then, a low, angry voice.

One he knew very well . . . and not just because he’d heard Keelie tell people off more than once.

He’d heard that voice in his dreams. He dreamed of hearing that voice as he crouched over her body and sheathed himself inside her. He’d heard that voice gasp out his name as he slid his hands over her body.

He’d heard her angry.

He’d heard her amused.

He’d heard her aroused.

But he’d never heard her like this . . . scared.

He took off running and rounded the SUV near her Bug just as she wheeled around and slammed her foot into the side of a man’s head.

The guy’s mouth went slack and he stumbled, shaking his head as he slammed into a Jeep a few feet away. He shook it off quick, too quick, and shot out a hand.

Zane grabbed the back of Keelie’s jeans, jerking her backward.

She yelped as she crashed into him, driving her elbow into his stomach. Half expecting it, he tensed his muscles just in time to avoid totally losing his air and managed not to be winded as he eased her aside. Her gaze flew up to his, but he didn’t look at her. He was totally focused on the man in front of them.

Big bastard. Mean. The high school bully who’d never quite learned that he couldn’t have everything he wanted—Zane knew his type better than he cared to admit.

“Who the f*ck are you?” The guy’s lip peeled back from his teeth. “What did you do, text Clark Kent or something on your way out to the car, babe?”

“You want to turn around now,” Zane said softly. “You want to turn around and walk away. Otherwise, you won’t be walking anywhere.”

“Yeah?” He took a step forward and drilled a finger into Zane’s chest.

Mentally, Zane calculated. The guy only had an inch or two on him, but he outweighed Zane, a good twenty pounds of solid muscle. He stood there like he knew how to move—probably knew how to throw a punch or two. In a straight-out fight, it could get ugly. Zane had gone through more than his share of straight-out fights.

Then he saw the glint of silver flashing in the man’s hand and he stopped worrying—he just moved.


*

One minute, Hawk was standing there.

Keelie barely even processed what happened, Zane moved so fast. He’d dodged to the side and struck out low with one leg—she’d seen that. Then there was a wet, sickening crack and Hawk crumpled to the ground. Furious, pained noises left his throat and his leg stuck out at an impossible angle. Keelie barely managed to snap her jaw shut before she swung her head around to stare at Zane.

Cool and collected Zane, with his horn-rimmed glasses and serious smiles.