Page 66 of Dark Alliance
Tony can bark all he wants about loyalty and honor, but I’m no stranger to jealous rage.
He points at me. “You’re dead, you motherfucker.” He’s seething as he stalks our way, his feet stomping against the floor so violently that glass tinkles as he passes, the high pitch singing in my ears.
I’m surprised those broad shoulders don’t wipe out an entire shelf of wine.
I zip up and spin, ready to lay him out.
Instead of aiming at me, he rushes for Cat. “Where’s your head? What the hell is this?” He seizes her arm.
“Tony, get off me.” When Cat tries to yank free, his iron grip causes her to wince.
My blood boils.
I don’t think so, you blond fuckstick.
“You need to take your hand off the lady and back up, man.” In my mind’s eye, clips of all the ways I could kill this guy stack up like plates. Out of respect for Cat, I hold myself in check as I step closer. “She’s a grown woman. You don’t make decisions for her.”
“Fuck you, Gallagher.” He swings, hitting me square in the jaw with a solidthwack.
That actually kind of hurt.
I shake off the sting and land a sucker punch to his chest.
Tony stumbles into a wall of wine, smacking his temple on a few bottles sticking out from the racks.
They rattle but don’t fall.
“Stop it!” Cat clutches the skirt of her dress. “Both of you!”
Tony recovers and plows toward me, tackling me into the barrel holding Cat’s three bottles of Chianti.
We smash the barrel to smithereens, and the bottles shatter, shooting purple liquid and shards of glass everywhere.
As Cat screams from behind him, Tony gets his hands around my neck and squeezes.
This asshole is scaring her.
He’s not getting out of this now.
I was more than willing to let him go, but he just won’t quit.
I don’t bother trying to get him off my throat.
Instead, I shift my lower body, get a good angle, and ram my knee up into his nuts.
“Shit!” Tony wheezes and collapses on top of me.
He’s incredibly heavy, but at least air’s flowing into my lungs again.
I gulp it down as I roll out from under him and jump to my feet.
Tony writhes on the stones, clutching his pearls.
“Enough.” I wipe wine from the side of my face. My suit’s ruined, so that’s great. “Get up.”
He’s on his hands and knees in a puddle of wine, wincing and rubbing his nuts while explaining in impressive detail all the ways he’s going to get me back for this.
If not for Cat, I’d kill this asshole.
