Page 60 of Dirty Hot Valentine
He rolled in pain, crying, but I pinned him down and my punches flew again. The fucker’s screams and blubbering fell deaf on my ears. Even the footsteps and the yelling men and women behind me.
Every sound was toned down until one scream snapped me out of my own skin. Cammie’s scream.
“Dusty! Stop! You’ll kill him!”
I looked at her over my shoulder and saw her pale face and the panic in her eyes.
The world stopped in its tracks as I realized, for the first time ever, she was terrified. Of me.
Suddenly, I became aware of the surroundings, the people, the blood. The approaching sirens.
I stood and grabbed the piece of shit by his neck. Then I pressed him to the dumpster. His eyes were swollen and half-closed, but I knew he could still see me. I leaned to whisper in his ear. “If you ever think about touching my girl again, I’ll chop your dick off in your sleep. And if you go yammering to the cops, I’ll track you and your family down, and when I find you, it won’t be about breaking some bones like tonight. Do you understand?”
He nodded vigorously, sobbing like a little bitch.
“Now, apologize to her.” I moved to the side, making space for him to see her, still holding him so he wouldn’t fall.
“I’m sorry,” he blubbered, blood gushing from his teeth. “I’m so sorry. I’d never touch you again.”
“Good bitch. Remember what I said about not breaking your bones next time,” I whispered.
“Yes. Yes! I’m sorry.”
I let him drop and yanked Cammie by the hand out of the crowd.
10. Dusty
We managed to leave before the cops arrived, and silence filled the limo on our way back to the hotel.
The second she stomped into the room, she grabbed her bag and clothes from the closet.
I slammed the door shut and went after her. “What are you doing?”
“Packing. I got to get out of here,” she mumbled.
“What?”
She stuffed her things into the bag. “I need to go back to my place.”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“Yes, I am.”
I snatched everything in her hands and threw it on the floor. “I said you are not going anywhere.”
She blinked with the thud her now blood-stained stuff made when it fell. Then she looked up at me, defiantly. “Or what? You’ll beat the crap out of me, too?”
My eyes widened. She knew I’d never lay a hand on her. What the fuck? “Cammie, please. This is crazy. Can we talk?”
She bent and picked up the fucking bag, packing again, ignoring me.
A huge wave of tension rumbled inside me. “Fine. I admit I was angry. It’s been building up all night. First with how everybody was looking at you in that dress, and then that asshole boyfriend story.” And what Mama said, but I couldn’t tell Cammie about it now.
She placed the unzipped, half-filled luggage on the bed and stumbled, getting me out of her way to reach the dresser.
I hold her arm, not letting her pass. “I see that motherfucker all over you, what am I supposed to do?”
She jerked out of my grip. “Not beat him to death!”
