Chapitre 3: Chapter 3

And then he realizes he’s got to do something to save face here, I should know better than to start something in front of the whole gang.

He hauls himself up from the booth, a head taller than me and three times as wide, his eyes gleaming with a mean spark I don’t like at all, his hands fisting at his sides. Hands like that crushed my wrist, the first time I stood up for her. I’ve been torn open by men like him, left bleeding and broken, I have the scars to prove it.

Behind me Delia gasps, pulls me a step back. “Dae,” she whispers. “Oh God, Dae—”

I don’t know if it’s courage or stupidity that makes me look up at him and say, “I’ll not have that in here. If you’re wanting to touch her again, you can just leave now.”

He laughs. I expected him to; that’s how it normally starts.