Page 223 of Always Love You More

“You can wait till I get there.”

“No, I’m … I’m okay.”

“Shit like this shouldn’t happen,” he mutters.

“Yeah,” I answer. “But it does.”

I hear the door crash open, and then Jameson’s deep voice.

“Where is she?”

Setting down the plate in my hand, I round the corner, and the instant he sees me, he’s moving toward me.

“Which one?”

I point. “The guy in the back booth, sitting—”

Before I can even finish, he’s striding over to the man, stopping in front of his table.

I stay where I am, watching as Jameson grabs the guy by the back of neck and slams his head against the table. Then he motions me over, not letting up on his hold, and demands that the man apologize.

I can’t help but feel satisfied when his eyes meet mine and I see they’re blown wide with shock.

Yeah, fucker, how do you like that?

Jameson slams the man’s head against the table again when he hesitates to apologize.

Finally, after some coaxing, the guy finally spits out, “I’m sorry, okay?”

“What are you sorry for?” Jameson sneers, his tone making it clear that he’s not gonna let this guy off easy.

But the man’s too stupid to hear it.

Too self-assured.

“What?” the guy asks.

“What. Are. You. Sorry. For,” Jameson repeats slowly, his words full of condescension.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Jameson leans in. “Do I look like I’m fucking kidding?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, man.”

I see Patsy rush into the room just as Jameson starts to pick up the guy’s head again. She briefly moves her gaze to me before she hollers at Jameson to stop.

He lets go of the guy’s head, and the man scrambles back into the booth as Jameson reasons with Patsy, telling her what he did to me.

She looks over the man, who’s running his hand across his head, checking for damage.

“You’ve clearly handled it,” she tells Jameson. “People are trying to eat here.”

I glance around the room and notice everyone with their heads down, purposely minding their own business. Nobody here likes to put their nose where it doesn’t belong, and this is clearly a personal issue.

“Yeah, all right,” Jameson tells her. “I’ll leave when he does.”

“I’m not leaving,” the man says. “My food hasn’t come yet.”