Lib Novel Page 6
It only took a second to recognize it as the bride-to-be from earlier, and the moment I did, my blood ran cold. I scanned the room for her, immediately spotting the dark hallway I’d nearly passed on my way out the door.
My hands clenched into fists as I slowly approached. Lights continued to strobe behind me, painting the walls in splashes of color as I stood at the open end of the hallway, horrified.
This hadn’t been what I meant when I’d said I wanted something to happen.
Bride-to-be was pinned to the wall by a big nasty dude wearing a muscle tank and probably no deodorant, if the smell was anything to go by. I could smell him from ten feet away, and man, the guy was rank.
He looked like the kinda dude who snorted cocaine and Kraft mac and cheese on the weekends, thought onions were spicy, and spent every second he could futilely trying to convince everyone at work that he wasn’t a wife-beater—even though the string of exes he left behind said otherwise.
In other words: dude was a grade-A asshole.
I didn’t have to smell him to know that.
Though that didn’t help.
He smelled more like an asshole than he looked like one—and that was saying something.
The closer I crept to the two figures, the easier it was to parse out what had happened. The women’s bathroom was just behind the bride-to-be, like she’d been exiting when he grabbed her. He’d probably been waiting in the hallway like the creepy opportunist he was, ready to pounce on his next unwilling victim.
I was exhausted, but not dead. There was no way in hell I was going to leave her alone with him. For the first time in months I wished I had a weapon on me—though realistically that wouldn’t do anyone any good.
Wasn’t like I could slice the dude’s throat or shoot him.
Not in public.
And even if I could, I wasn’t sure I had that in me.
My heart raced as I watched her struggle for the moment it took me to cross the remaining distance between us. Her eyes were droopy and her protests were feeble.
She’s wasted.
The thought made me sick. Even if she hadn’t weighed a pound and a half, soaking wet, she’d still be no match for this dude—not at that level of intoxication.
Asshole hadn’t noticed me, even though I was right behind him, but Bride-to-be had.
Her eyes widened, her mascara smudged, and I shoved aside the last dregs of my exhaustion to answer the call for help in her gaze.
I could still feel the weight of eyes on the back of my neck, but I ignored the sensation, certain it was still paranoia. Thump, thump, thump, I focused on the beat of my own heart as I took a steadying breath, centered myself, and leapt into action.
Asshole was big, bigger than I was, but all that meant was that I had to push at the right spots to get him moving. His bulk could be used against him as easily as it could be used in his favor.
“Hey, fuck face.” I grabbed the nape of the dude’s shirt, kicked the back of one of his knees, and used his falling momentum to pivot him away from my wasted buddy. Surprise was a useful tool. And it came in handy now more than ever.
“Wha—” He slammed into the wall the second I released his shirt, stumbling a little as I put myself between Bride-to-be and his bulk, ready to fend him off the second he retaliated.
Which he did.
Because he was big, and dumb, and predictable.
“I’ll kill you.” Asshole’s nostrils flared like a bull.
“Uh-huh, sure, dude-wipe,” I beckoned him forward, just glad he had his sights set on me and not my new friend. I’d fought things far larger and deadlier than a drunk dude with bad hygiene, so I wasn’t scared.
Because I knew I could take him.
It would be easy.
He didn’t have fangs, or claws, or supernatural strength. He wasn’t faster than I was. He didn’t heal more quickly than I did. He may be big, but he was a human. A stupid human. I could fight him. I could fight him and I’d win.