Cold River - Carla Neggers [3]
“That’s enough.”
Bowie. Hannah recognized his voice. “No, don’t,” she said, grabbing the edge of a table and pulling herself back onto her feet.
Derek and Robert both spun around at Bowie. Brett Griffin was up now, too. One of the men shoved a table into Hannah, pinning her against the wall. Frantic, angry enough now to throw a chair at someone, she pushed the table away from her, striking Derek in the upper legs. He started to leap over the table to her, but Bowie got one of Derek’s arms and twisted it behind him. Robert came at him, and Bowie stomped him on the instep. He went down in pain.
Hannah came to her senses. “Bowie, stop.” She didn’t know if he could hear her. “These bastards aren’t worth a jail sentence.”
He loosened his grip on Derek, who repaid the favor by lunging for Hannah. She reached for a chair to defend herself, but before he could get to her, a strong male arm clamped her around her waist. She didn’t see who it belonged to and jabbed a sharp elbow into an iron abdomen. The man who had her didn’t break his stride as he lifted her off her feet and carried her out the door.
Kicking and clawing, Hannah was down the steps and into the March cold before she’d caught her next breath. The man released her, but she was so off balance from fighting him, she almost landed butt-first in a puddle. She managed to stay on her feet and spun around, ready to pound whoever had just hauled her out of O’Rourke’s.
“Hold on. I’m on your side.” Sean Cameron licked a split knuckle, the steady, cold drizzle already collecting on his dark hair and obviously expensive long black coat. He must have brought it from California with him. He certainly hadn’t bought it in Black Falls. He grinned at her. “I never thought I’d be carting Hannah Shay out of a bar brawl.”
Anyone else, and Hannah would have pulled herself together and marched home. But Sean? She didn’t know whether she was mortified or just really irritated that he’d been the one to get her out of O’Rourke’s. She could hear grunts and thuds, breaking glass and swearing, as the fight went on inside.
Police sirens sounded down the street.
She was breathing hard, the insults fresh in her mind. It wasn’t me, she wanted to scream. That bastard didn’t mean me.
Hannah adjusted her twisted skirt. “I didn’t ask for your help.”
“You’re welcome,” Sean said with a mock bow.
She shivered, wondering how many of the insults he’d heard in the dark, noisy bar. She swallowed, tasting blood. She realized she’d cut the inside of her lip. She managed a smile. “Sorry. Thank you for your help.”
A.J. and Elijah came out of the bar. Elijah handed Hannah her jacket without comment. She slipped it on, the cold rain already soaking into her hair. The three Camerons stood in front of her, controlled, steady—she’d been the one out of control.
Of course. She was a Shay.
“Go home, Hannah,” A.J. said.
His wife, Lauren, was one of the nicest people in Black Falls. She hadn’t grown up there, but she was respected and well-liked for her kindness and her love for A.J. and their two young children. Her husband, however, wasn’t known for his patience, especially with Hannah.
The sirens were louder now. She could feel where the table had hit her in the hip. “If the police want to talk to me—”
Elijah stopped her midsentence. “They won’t,” he said.
Sean’s eyes seemed black in the Vermont night. “I’ll take you home.”
“No,” she blurted, panicked at the idea of walking down the street with him, or, worse yet, being in a vehicle with him, but she calmed herself and managed a smile. “Thank you.”
A.J., Elijah and Sean paid no attention to the commotion inside O’Rourke’s. Shaking with the cold and adrenaline, Hannah tried to make out Bowie’s voice. She wanted him to appear in the doorway and say he’d walked away from this fight, as he hadn’t so many fights in his past.
But he didn’t, and she zipped up her jacket and started for the bar entrance.
Sean touched her shoulder. “You’re not going back in there.”
She spun around at him. A.J. and Elijah stood