have—”
A concussive, all-too-familiar roar chilled the blood in Madelyn’s veins and silenced the crowded bar. Jim Gallow, the boozer and part-time fisherman, stood at the entrance. Towered, really. On the far side of six feet and two hundred pounds, he had a body made for towing eighteen-wheelers and tossing boulders.
“Get the fuck away from my wife.”
2
“ O h no ,” Nichole breathed the words. The joy in her expression mutated into pure dread. At Jim’s forceful words her shoulders drew and her head ducked. The glimmer in her eyes shadowed and her murky gaze met Madelyn’s. “I’m so sorry. Please,” she whispered, “just let me deal with him.”
Blood churned in Madelyn’s ears like a violent sea.
Breath by steady breath she settled into calm as her body prepared for the confrontation. She refused to answer Nichole one way or the other. What she did depended on Jim.
Tommy stood. When he should’ve scampered away he spread his feet and puffed his chest.
“Just go, Tommy,” Madelyn insisted. “You’ll only make things worse.” Damn, now she sounded like Nichole.
Behind Jim a bartender flagged his arms toward the back offices. Help was on the way. All they had to do was hold the line. The bouncers would make him leave. They’d had enough practice to perfect the task.
“We’ve been friends since before you were around, Jimmy Boy,” Tommy boasted. “I can talk to your wife if I want. It’s not like I’m trying to get in her pants.”
Idiot.
Jim stomped forward. In his hand a bottle of Johnny Walker sloshed its meager contents. His thigh grazed a table and sent it careening. The table thudded. Glasses shattered. The couple who’d been enjoying barbecue ribs and draft beers shrieked their displeasure. Jim’s bright blue eyes remained locked on Tommy.
The closer Jim stalked the quieter Tommy’s sermon grew, but he didn’t stop. That took bravery or stupidity. Maybe both.
“It’s not the dark ages, man. You can’t say who she talks to just because you married her. She’s not going to cheat on you. I don’t know why, but she loves you. Even though you’re a total—”
Madelyn knew it was coming and still she didn’t see it until Jim’s knuckles connected with Tommy’s jaw. The poor guy’s head snapped back. A crack pierced the air. Her stomach gave at the sound just as Tommy’s slack body descended.
She lunged forward. Ice-cold liquid froze her skin and soaked the front of her pants. Madelyn ignored the tilting table and falling ’ritas. Her arms wrapped Tommy’s waist. His height pitched her forward, but she shot a foot out. Straining every muscle, she controlled the man’s fall.
“Jim, please stop this right now,” Nichole begged. “If you keep it up, Chief will lock you up for the night.”
Madelyn straightened in time to see Jim wrench Nichole’s wrist from the back of the chair and yank her from the only remaining seat at the capsized table. Her friend used the wooden chair as an anchor, tugging against her husband’s insistent tug. It was as effective as holding on to a blade of grass in a typhoon.
One jerk of Jim’s thigh-sized arm and Nichole lurched forward, dragging the chair with her.
“Please, Jim. Baby,” Nichole sniffled.
The bouncers still hadn’t made their grand appearance from the back rooms. What were they waiting for, special music and a spotlight?
“Hey, Jim?” Madelyn shouted over the din.
His sloshy gate slowed. He turned and pulled Nichole tight to his side. She released the chair. Her gaze pleaded with Madelyn. If only she could tell whether it begged her to help or stop. She didn’t want to make Nichole’s situation worse, but by damn if she’d let this man beat on her friend again.
The dregs of his whiskey swirled as he used the bottle to gesture toward him and Nichole. “We’re good.” He stabbed the spout toward her. Several drops of amber liquid spilled onto the floor. “You’re the trouble maker. You mind your
A concussive, all-too-familiar roar chilled the blood in Madelyn’s veins and silenced the crowded bar. Jim Gallow, the boozer and part-time fisherman, stood at the entrance. Towered, really. On the far side of six feet and two hundred pounds, he had a body made for towing eighteen-wheelers and tossing boulders.
“Get the fuck away from my wife.”
2
“ O h no ,” Nichole breathed the words. The joy in her expression mutated into pure dread. At Jim’s forceful words her shoulders drew and her head ducked. The glimmer in her eyes shadowed and her murky gaze met Madelyn’s. “I’m so sorry. Please,” she whispered, “just let me deal with him.”
Blood churned in Madelyn’s ears like a violent sea.
Breath by steady breath she settled into calm as her body prepared for the confrontation. She refused to answer Nichole one way or the other. What she did depended on Jim.
Tommy stood. When he should’ve scampered away he spread his feet and puffed his chest.
“Just go, Tommy,” Madelyn insisted. “You’ll only make things worse.” Damn, now she sounded like Nichole.
Behind Jim a bartender flagged his arms toward the back offices. Help was on the way. All they had to do was hold the line. The bouncers would make him leave. They’d had enough practice to perfect the task.
“We’ve been friends since before you were around, Jimmy Boy,” Tommy boasted. “I can talk to your wife if I want. It’s not like I’m trying to get in her pants.”
Idiot.
Jim stomped forward. In his hand a bottle of Johnny Walker sloshed its meager contents. His thigh grazed a table and sent it careening. The table thudded. Glasses shattered. The couple who’d been enjoying barbecue ribs and draft beers shrieked their displeasure. Jim’s bright blue eyes remained locked on Tommy.
The closer Jim stalked the quieter Tommy’s sermon grew, but he didn’t stop. That took bravery or stupidity. Maybe both.
“It’s not the dark ages, man. You can’t say who she talks to just because you married her. She’s not going to cheat on you. I don’t know why, but she loves you. Even though you’re a total—”
Madelyn knew it was coming and still she didn’t see it until Jim’s knuckles connected with Tommy’s jaw. The poor guy’s head snapped back. A crack pierced the air. Her stomach gave at the sound just as Tommy’s slack body descended.
She lunged forward. Ice-cold liquid froze her skin and soaked the front of her pants. Madelyn ignored the tilting table and falling ’ritas. Her arms wrapped Tommy’s waist. His height pitched her forward, but she shot a foot out. Straining every muscle, she controlled the man’s fall.
“Jim, please stop this right now,” Nichole begged. “If you keep it up, Chief will lock you up for the night.”
Madelyn straightened in time to see Jim wrench Nichole’s wrist from the back of the chair and yank her from the only remaining seat at the capsized table. Her friend used the wooden chair as an anchor, tugging against her husband’s insistent tug. It was as effective as holding on to a blade of grass in a typhoon.
One jerk of Jim’s thigh-sized arm and Nichole lurched forward, dragging the chair with her.
“Please, Jim. Baby,” Nichole sniffled.
The bouncers still hadn’t made their grand appearance from the back rooms. What were they waiting for, special music and a spotlight?
“Hey, Jim?” Madelyn shouted over the din.
His sloshy gate slowed. He turned and pulled Nichole tight to his side. She released the chair. Her gaze pleaded with Madelyn. If only she could tell whether it begged her to help or stop. She didn’t want to make Nichole’s situation worse, but by damn if she’d let this man beat on her friend again.
The dregs of his whiskey swirled as he used the bottle to gesture toward him and Nichole. “We’re good.” He stabbed the spout toward her. Several drops of amber liquid spilled onto the floor. “You’re the trouble maker. You mind your
Similar Books
The Phantom Limbs of the Rollow Sisters
Timothy Schaffert
A Baby For The Millionaire (The Full Series)
Helen Cooper
Under the Covers
Rita Herron
Three Rivers
Tiffany Quay Tyson
Life Sentence
Kim Paffenroth
The Last Time I Saw You
Elizabeth Berg
Speed Dating
Natalie Standiford
Once Every Never
Lesley Livingston