An Eye For Danger (book 1)

Chapter 33

Chapter 33

“So you and Sam got a little something on the side.” James’ stepped into my space, backing me toward the kitchenette. “Guess you like tough boys. Boys who can rumble. Take a few hits for you”

We kept moving till he pressed me against the electric stove. Greasy black fingers fisted my shirtfront and held me there as he waited for me to blink.

“Maybe you like it hot and fast. I can do hot and fast.” A quick glance to the burner. His fingers toyed with a front knob. “’Cause anything happens to my boy Sam, and I’ll make you disappear. Just like Cameron did. You get what I’m saying, uptown girl? You don’t fuck with my family.”

I clawed into the back of his hand that held my shirtfront. “Get. Off. Me.”

He checked my veneer for cracks, found none. His punk-ass threat meant nothing after a day of ducking bullets. And I wasn’t about to validate his cheap intimidation tactics to test my loyalty to Sam.

James jerked toward me, and I flinched. Releasing my shirt, he splayed his hands in my face, smiling like nothing happened. Then his breath hitched and he reeled sideways.

Sam slammed him onto the card table, which shuddered and threatened to fold. James blew out his lungs with a humph. Glasses smashed to the floor, plates snapped in half beneath his shoulder. With another thud, Sam flipped him onto his back, snapping James’ head back.

James saw what was coming next, but he couldn’t scramble fast enough to avoid Sam’s fist. The first blow landed hard and fast to the flesh of his cheek, throwing James’ face sideways. The second jammed into his mouth, busting his upper lip open.

Sam’s elbow cocked for round three, and James’ eyes enlarged.

“Enough.” I grabbed Sam’s arm. His body was shaking, lusting to hurt, maim, kill anyone in our path. “Stop. He's not the enemy.” I pulled against rigid muscles.

“You ever touch her again, I swear I’ll—”

“Don’t say it.” I eased Sam back another inch. “Don’t. You can’t take it back.”

“We’re cool, we’re cool.” James forwarded his palms, but he was sweating blood, the way the asshole had made me sweat. His tongue licked his swollen lip. Then he looked to me. “We’re cool, right?”

Sam smashed James back on the table, hammered a blow under James’ rib cage.

“Sam!” I squeezed between him and James before another fist struck. “Look at me.”

 Sam’s jaw was clenched so tight my touches didn’t penetrate, and I thought he’d strike me instead. With James sandwiching me from behind, I’d nowhere to duck. Beats drummed by.

“No more violence. I've had enough, Sam. We've had enough.”

Tentative, Sam lowered his fist and let me corral him against the wall, but his eyes remained locked on his prey.

Catching his breath, James rolled off the table, dragging more broken dishes to the floor. He pulled off the a ceramic chunk clinging to his T-shirt. When he shook his head, blood and spit flew onto the floor, so he shoved two fingers inside his mouth, poking his inner cheek. Then he felt his nose bridge and sighed to find it wasn’t broken. “Damn,” said James before spitting blood into the sink.

“Damn is right.” Malta stood in the doorway. “I miss all the good fights.”

Sam’s breath sawed the air, and I struggled to hold him back from more battle. James set a towel to his mouth, dropped onto a chair, and looked sideways at Sam, which made Sam’s eyes flare.