Privilege (Special Tactical Units Division 2)

He saw a man wanting a woman who didn’t want him.

Every gesture the guy made was off.

Hanging onto her hand. Leading her to one table when she’d obviously been headed towards another. A couple of minutes of conversation and then the folded-arms, petulant-child bit.

All of it had given him a bad feeling, but there wasn’t much he could do except watch as the situation played out, so he’d stood under an awning that wasn’t deep enough to cover his broad shoulders, rain dripping down his neck, hands tucked in the back pockets of his jeans, trying to be patient.

Until he saw Bianca making it clear she was ready to leave and the guy grabbing her hand and saying something that made her stiffen and attempt to pull away.

After that, instincts honed on endless mountaintops, in endless deserts, in jungles that stank of rot had taken over.

Chay had made his move.

So, yeah, he wanted to hurt the man cringing in his grasp, but what he wanted didn’t matter.

This mission had only one objective, and that was to get Bianca out of here.

But there could be a secondary mission.

Yellow Teeth needed a meaningful warning. Something subtle.

In the way of true New Yorkers, the few patrons in the shop were carefully looking everywhere but at them. Still, Chay could sense they were fully aware of what was going down. Only the barista was watching and Chay had to give the guy credit because he’d looked as if he were moving towards the end of the counter, maybe to step out from behind it and give Bianca some help.

“Sir,” Yellow Teeth said, “I have no idea why you—”

Chay tightened his grasp.

“Bianca,” he said, never taking his eyes from the guy he had pinned to the chair, “please, wait for me at the door.” She didn’t move. Jesus, was she going to argue about this, too? “Honey. Just do it, okay?”

A couple of long seconds went by. Then she pushed back her chair and picked up her tote.

“Don’t hurt him,” she said softly.

“We’re just going to have a little chat. A minute, no more. I promise.”

She nodded and got to her feet.

“Noah,” she said, very calmly. “You need help.”

Chay almost rolled his eyes. Did she have to get the last word in? Dumb question. Of course she did. Saying what she was thinking no matter the situation, hanging tough, was who she was.

Caring about people was who she was, too.

The Tigress had more than balls and intellect and beauty.

She had a heart.

He watched her make her way through the shop. As soon as she got to the door, he leaned over the table and looked deep into Yellow Teeth’s tiny, terrified eyes.

“You so much as think of my woman again, even mention her name, you really will need help, pal, because I’ll take you apart. Piece by piece. Understand?”

Bianca’s aggressor shrank back in his seat. “I didn’t mean any—”

“Did I ask you for an explanation?”

The guy was sweating. Trembling. Chay leaned closer.

“Say her name, think of her, you’re finished. Got it?”