Page 104 of Commit
“Did you just?—”
I place my finger over her lips. “Did I…” I shake my head, trying to find the right words. “Do I remind you of him?” I grit my teeth.
She rears back. “What?”
“I’m an older man. I forced you into this. I?—”
Now it’s her turn to cover my mouth. “You scare me. I won’t lie about that. But there was never a moment when I ever thought you were like him.”
Before she can say anything else, another man walks into the restroom, stepping over the body on the floor and pulling his gun.
“Now, what kind of party is this?” he asks with a twang in his voice.
God, spare me from rednecks.
“The private kind. Now, fuck off.”
The guy laughs, his gun pointed at my head as he steps closer. “Sure, I’ll get right on that—just as soon as you give me the girl. Don’t worry. Once I’m done with her, I’ll leave her in the parking lot for you.”
“You really don’t want to do this,” Starling tries to warn him, but the cocky motherfucker doesn’t listen.
He laughs before clicking the safety off. “Get on your fucking knees. You first. Your girl can suck me off when I’m done with you.”
A red haze clouds my judgment. I stare at Starling’s pale face. “Close your eyes for me, Birdie, and no matter what you hear, don’t open them.”
“Hudson,” she chokes out, and I squeeze her knee.
“Trust me, little bird,” I murmur.
She swallows and closes her eyes. The moment she does, I whirl around and grab the gun with one hand while twisting his wrist with the other, forcing the gun back on him. He panics and releases his hold, allowing me to pull his gun from his hand and point it at him.
All this happens in seconds. Once the guy realizes he’s lost the upper hand, a wet patch appears on the crotch of his pants. I pistol-whip him, knocking him to the floor, then use my T-shirt to wipe my prints from the gun.
Bending down, I place the gun into the first guy’s hand, wrap his finger around the trigger, and aim it at the last guy before shooting him in the side of his head.
Starling cries out at the sound, but when I stand up and look at her, she still has her eyes closed. Tears run down her face as she fights the urge to open them and flee. The fact that she trusts me enough to do as I ask, despite all her fear, is humbling.
“I’m okay, Birdie. Just keep your eyes closed a little longer.”
“Oh, thank God,” she cries as I sweep her up into my arms and cradle her against my chest.
I carry her out into the hallway, the music from the bar drowning out everything else. Turning the other way, I take Starling out the fire exit and head straight to the car.
Once I have her strapped into the passenger seat, I lean over and kiss her before pulling back. “You can open your eyes now.”
She does, her eyes raking over me to make sure I’m okay before she throws her arms around my neck and squeezes me tight. “You scared the shit out of me,” she mumbles into my throat as I rub my hand up and down her back.
“I’m okay, I promise.”
She lets go of me and turns to look at the bar, her fingers playing with the hem of her skirt. “What about cameras?”
“There are no cameras. That’s why it’s so popular with a certain kind of clientele.”
“Okay, good. Can we go home now?”
Something settles in me when she calls my house home. “Yeah, Birdie, we can go home now.”
I reverse out of my spot and head home, looking over at Starling every few minutes, wondering if she’s going to fall apart or if she’s in shock.