Freed by You (5 page)

I glanced up regularly and viewed the couple from the corner of my eye. They seemed deep in conversation, every now and again Natalie would erupt into laughter – a very fake laughter if you asked me. Again, for reasons I couldn’t understand, this played strange games with my emotions. My stomach knotted again and I felt a brief wave of anger. Or, was it jealousy? I had no idea. As I pondered this silently, I hadn’t realised I was still staring until Julian’s eyes moved rapidly across the room and met directly with mine. I noticed a small frown appear between his brows before he looked down and carried on shuffling with the papers in front of him. I tore my gaze away and attended once more to the lemons, refusing to give him any more of my attention.

A gentle stream of warm water trickled through my fingers as I washed away the traces of sticky juice. As I allowed the warmth to spread down the back of my hand, I heard a man’s cough behind me – a very unsubtle man’s cough. I turned quickly to serve the waiting punter and my stomach dropped once more when I saw whose mouth the cough had come from. I took a deep, steadying breath as I approached him.

“Good evening, Mr Scott. What can I get for you?” I smiled pleasantly
. He’s just like any
other punter
; I told myself,
don’t let him affect you!

“I’ll have a double shot of your Louis X11 cognac, please. No ice.”

Okay, shit
! I had no idea where that was, or even what it was, more to the point. My eyes began to frantically scan the names on the bottles, hoping to recognise the name although I had already forgotten what he’d asked for.
Shit, shit, shit!

“Top shelf, on your left.” I could hear the smile play across his lips as he spoke and I felt my cheeks heat in response.

I reached high to grasp the bottle, shifting my weight onto the tips of my toes and was suddenly aware that my top had begun to raise up to reveal my bare back. When I turned, the correct bottle in my hand, Mr Scott was staring at my waist. His penetrating eyes were intense and hiding some secret emotion that I hadn’t seen in him before, I had no idea what this emotion was but his eyes looked different somehow, slightly narrowed but alive with...
something
. I quickly tugged at the hem of my top before pouring the contents of the bottle into a large, squared glass.

“I’m assuming you don’t pay for that,” I said, sliding the glass of cognac across the bar into his awaiting hand.

“Your assumptions are correct, Miss Braxton,” he replied with a dazzling smile that caused my breath to hitch in my throat.

Wow, this man really was something else. He lifted his glass to his lips and I felt my cheeks heat as his glorious lips parted to welcome the brown liquid. My eyes were drawn to a small scar to the left of his top lip that I hadn’t noticed before now. The way the muscles in his thick neck moved as he swallowed deeply had me involuntarily picturing his naked torso. Whoa, what was wrong with me?
Get a grip
; I scolded myself as I tore my gaze away from his throat.

When he made no attempt to get up, I looked at him expectantly, wondering what it was he might be waiting for. He returned my gaze with a wide-eyed, raised brows expression. His tousled brown hair swept high across his forehead, framing his perfect face.

“Can I get you anything else, sir?”

“No, thank you. I’m just going to sit here and enjoy the view for a while longer.” And there was his dazzling smile again. How could a woman be expected to concentrate with this incredible creature in such close proximity? I wasn’t sure exactly what
view
he was referring to; surely he had admired the unparalleled beauty of his
own
club many times before. Maybe one simply didn’t tire of its beauty.

I turned on my heel and carried on with my duties, trying desperately to evade his glare as I felt my pulse quicken. I began to slowly polish each individual glass with a soft towel, all the while feeling his eyes burning into me from behind where he still sat. I was feeling slightly more than uncomfortable by this time and so was extremely grateful for the distraction as another punter rested at the bar – as repulsive as that distraction was.

He was in his fifties I would guess. A short man, possibly only about 5ft 10 and he was more than slightly overweight, his large gut hung heavily over the waistband of his trousers. His face was bordering on purple he was that flustered and I was sure his shirt collar looked far too tight
. Maybe he’s slowly choking
, my inner-self sneered. There was something very dislikeable about this man, although, as I hadn’t even given him the chance to speak yet, I pushed my thoughts away.

“Good evening, sir. What can I do for you?” I asked pleasantly, aware of the glare burning into the side of my face from the ever-charming Julian. I smiled as brightly as I could manage under the circumstances.

“Oh, I can think of a number of things you could do for me, sweetheart,” he slurred. And there it was, my suspicions had been confirmed
. Great
, I had the boss watching my every move and I had a drunken leach trying his luck. My cheeks heated as I wondered how would be best to handle the situation.

“Sorry, sir, I’ll rephrase, can I get you a drink?”

“Yes, if you’ll join me,” he invited.

“I’m working so that won't be possible. What would you like to drink?”

“That’s a real shame, darling. I’m sure I could show you a good time.”

My stomach turned with his words, he revolted me to the point where I think I could have been physically sick. He was old enough to be my
father
for goodness sake! And if that wasn’t a good enough reason not to hit on me, he also didn’t have a single thing going for him. Men like him physically repulsed me. I wanted to slap him, I wanted to tell him how much he repulsed me, but, I had to bite my tongue and act professional.

“Do you think you’ve maybe had enough to drink for one night, sir?” I tried to reason with him, after all, if Mr Scott could hear this conversation, and I wasn’t sure if that was the case or not, I couldn’t exactly serve him more alcohol, he was clearly very intoxicated.

“Sir? I like the sound of that,” he snarled.

A loud bang forced me to snap my head in the direction of where Mr Scott was sitting, one hand was curled into a fist on the bar top before him and the other was clutching his empty glass, his knuckles white. He stared straight ahead of himself.

My heart began to pound against the insides of my chest and I could feel the all-too-familiar burning of my cheeks as I tried to measure Julian’s distance
– could he hear me
?

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough to drink for one night, don’t you?” I asked politely but sternly, returning my focus to the man in front of me.

“Don’t tell me when I’ve had enough!” he roared as his hand lunged forward and grabbed my forearm with alarming force.

Before I even had the chance to register his movement, Mr Scott flew in the man’s direction. His hand gripped tightly onto the man’s jaw, his fingers digging deep into the reddened excess flesh that made up his invisible jaw line. He yanked his head towards himself so that the man was staring directly into his eyes, his eyes that had worryingly taken on an animalistic, menacing glare.

“Take your fucking hands off her, now!” Mr Scott snarled through tightly gritted teeth.

The man released my arm instantly and I instinctively began to rub at the spot where his hand had been.

“Are you okay?” Mr Scott asked, turning his head in my direction whilst digging his strong fingers even deeper into the punter’s face.

His expression switched instantly as he looked at me. His eyes calmed and now I saw concern and compassion.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Wait here, don’t move,” he ordered and I watched, speechless, as he placed a firm hand around the back of the man’s neck, the other held his arm tightly around his back as he escorted the man across the busy dance floor and through the back door.

I shuddered at the thought of what Mr Scott might be capable of once he had him outside the building. Why was he leading him through the back door instead of the main exit? Then the reality of the situation hit me in the form of a violent image that clouded my head. It was an image I did not welcome and furthermore could not condone. Mr Scott could get into serious trouble because of me, or worse, he could get hurt. I rounded the bar to where Gemma was standing, polishing glasses, unaware of any commotion.

“Gemma, cover for me I won’t be long,” I called to her, the urgency clearly evident in my raised voice and no doubt panicked expression. She nodded in agreement and I ran across the dance floor towards the back exit.

As I burst through the back door Julian’s head snapped round to face his imposer. I saw the same angered expression on his beautiful face; his jaw set tight, his eyes glaring. He was towered over a limp figure on the floor.
Oh God, no, Julian
!

I was frozen to the spot where I stood at the top of the iron staircase, unsure of my next actions as he glared at me wildly. He turned his face to look at the man lying on the floor beneath him. When his eyes met mine again, every trace of anger had vanished. He looked at me with soft, almost pleading eyes. A grim expression set across his face as his jaw visibly relaxed, his mouth still set in a thin line.

“Mr Scott?” I wasn’t sure what to say. He suddenly looked so helpless, so vulnerable. My mind seemed to forget the man lying as still as stone on the wet ground as my eyes rapidly scanned Mr Scott’s face, trying to gauge his reaction as I spoke. A deep furrow marred his brows.

“It’s Julian.” He sounded even more defeated than he looked, his voice was low and trembling as his entire body shook noticeably
. What’s Julian
? What is he talking about?

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s Julian. My name is Julian, to you.”

“Um, I’m sorry?” My voice was laced with sarcasm as I spoke. “You’ve just beaten a man to a pulp for touching my arm and you think
now
is an appropriate moment for us to become acquainted on first name terms?”

“No one has the right to touch a woman without her prior acceptance, Emily. No one!”

“And no one has the right to beat seven shades of shit out of a helpless drunk either,
Julian
!”

He looked down at the man beneath him, looking sombre once more as he turned his attention back to me. “He deserved it. No one gets to put their hands on you like that, Emily, not while I’m around.”

I watched as another wave of vulnerability flashed behind his saddened eyes. I wanted to go to him. I wanted to hold him close and tell him it was okay. But it wasn’t. Why the ever changing emotions of a man I barely knew were affecting me so strongly, was beyond me. How was it that the only image filling my head right now was one of me stroking my fingertips softly down this mans pained features? I wanted to soothe him, to comfort him. But I didn’t.

“Why do you care?” I snapped. “You don’t even know me! I could have handled him myself!” My voice was raised now and I could feel the heat spreading across my cheeks as my anger began to course through me. He didn’t reply, he simply dropped to his knees beside the man who had begun to writhe around on the ground, his head hanging low. I hurried down the steps as soon as my eyes registered the injured man’s movement.

“Move out of my way, Julian. I need to make sure he’s okay.”

“Why should you care?” he asked as he turned his head slowly to glance over his shoulder to where I was standing but keeping his eyes down on the ground.

“I care, Julian!” I screamed at him. “Of course I care!”

Julian rocked back on his heels and began to stand up, straightening slowly, his head still low, his eyes never meeting my furious glare. As soon as he cleared the way for me I dropped to the man’s side and cupped my trembling hands around his bloodied face. It pained me to see someone so injured. No matter how he had treated me, I couldn’t bear the thought that I was responsible for this man’s torture. He probably had a wife and children. What would those little faces look like when they saw their daddy arrive home looking like
this
?

A loud howl escaped my lungs as I began to sob uncontrollably. Julian rushed to my side and placed a nervous hand on the back of my head. “Don’t cry, Emily. Please don’t cry. He’ll be fine; I’ll get him a doctor.”

“Give me your jacket!” I snapped, jerking my head away from his touch.

“What? Why?”

“Just give it to me!” I shouted through my sobs. My vision was clouded as I looked at him through the tears pooling in my eyes but I could read the pained expression that froze him in place. “Now, Julian!”

He shuffled out of his jacket and handed it to me and I began folding it neatly, trying my best to create a pillow. Gently lifting the man’s head and sliding the folded jacket beneath it, I turned towards Julian. “Go and get Ryan, please.” I spoke calmly this time, hoping he may be more willing to cooperate if I wasn’t shouting at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure he’ll be suffering with quite a headache right now! I’m trying to ease his discomfort, what does it look like I’m doing?”

“Why do you want Ryan?” He looked confused, a deep frown appearing across his forehead, his eyes narrowed.

“Because I damn well trust him to take better care of this man than what you or I are capable of right now! Please, Julian, just get him!” I was pleading with him now, a lump forming in my throat once more as my desperation for this stranger grew stronger with each minute that passed.

“What’s going on?” The man whose face I still cradled in my palms spoke, startling me. Julian shot to my side in an instant, his bloodied hand reaching for my arm. The sight of it sickened me.

“Take your hand away from me, Julian.” I heard his sharp intake of breath at my words and I instinctively worried that I had hurt his feelings. What the hell was
wrong
with me? Why would I possibly worry about hurting Julian’s feelings after his barbaric behaviour? I wasn’t some sort of damsel in distress; I could take care of myself. I didn’t
want
or
need
him to intervene. Although how was he to know that? I tried to reason with myself, he was surely just trying to help as I’m sure he would with any of his female staff.