Evie smiled. “He hasn’t so far. Have a nice night.” Holding back the further immature urge to stick out her tongue, she walked out the door, leaving the other woman behind.
She shook her head. Never in a million years would she understand catty women or those who chased after a man who’d used or just didn’t want her any more than she understood Damon’s past with that type of female. He, like his teammates, could have their pick and took it when they could, and she’d do well to remember that.
Evie stepped into the empty hall and bumped into a hard male body. She wobbled on her heels and immediately reached out to grab on to something or someone before she fell. A strong hand grabbed her elbow, steadying her.
“Oh my God, thank you.” She glanced up into eyes she never expected to see. “John!”
Instinct had her reaching for her gun, but the knife at her side that no one could see and the determined gleam in his eye stopped her. “I wouldn’t move if I were you.”
Unwilling to be his victim again, she struggled to break his grip as he made his point with his weapon. The sharp blade pricked her skin where her cami top lifted, baring flesh beneath her jacket, and she swallowed hard, memories of the last time he’d used a knife on her vivid in her mind.
“How did you know where I’d be?” she asked.
“That gas leak? I called it in. Then I was able to get into your apartment and plant a listening device,” he said, obviously proud of himself. “You can’t escape me, Evie.”
Forcing the fear away, she asked, “What do you want?”
“For now? I just want you to remember that you ruined my life, and if I can’t be happy, neither can you.”
Another woman strode out of the restroom, and he pricked her with the point of the blade, warning her not to make a sound. He breathed in her face, making her want to vomit.
“Enjoy your time with your football player because it won’t last. I’ll make sure of that.” He pushed her away, causing her to really stumble as he headed for the exit at the end of the hall.
By the time she righted herself, two men had stepped out of the restroom, blocking her view of his disappearance.
She leaned against the wall, breathing hard, shaking inside and out.
“Miss? Are you all right?” one of the men asked as he came up to her.
She brought her hand to her side, afraid the nick to her skin was bleeding. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
He shrugged and headed back into the bar.
“Evie?” Damon had come around the corner and caught sight of her. “You were gone a long time and Candy, Mandy, whatever her name is came back…” His voice trailed off and he rushed over. “What happened?”
“John was here,” she said, hating the tremor in her voice. Her legs shook but she refused to fall apart or be a victim. “He wanted to make his point. With a knife. It seems to be his weapon of choice.”
“Son of a bitch. Where is he?” Damon’s entire body vibrated with suppressed anger, but she knew it was too late for him to do anything about it.
She tipped her head toward the side exit. “I couldn’t get to my gun fast enough. He already had his knife out and got the upper hand. Again.”
He exhaled a sharp breath, and she could see the strength it took for him to retrain his focus on her and not the threat, which was gone. For now.
“C’mere.” He held out his arms and she gave in, gratefully cuddling in close, absorbing his warmth and the safety he offered.
“He bugged my apartment,” she said, glancing up at him.
“What?”
She groaned. “Like I said, one step ahead of me. He used the gas leak as a cover.”
Damon frowned. “I’m guessing he was the firefighter nobody recognized.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone. “What’s your brother’s number?”
Although she had Mack’s cell in her contacts, she knew his number by heart and repeated it to Damon.
He dialed and apparently Mack answered quickly because Damon was repeating the incident. “No, don’t come here. He’s long gone and I don’t want a public scene. Evie will stay with me tonight and we can talk tomorrow.”
She wasn’t about to argue. John hadn’t just threatened her, he’d violated her personal space. He’d been in her apartment when she wasn’t there, easily blending in with the first responders. She shuddered at the thought.
“Gotta go, Mack. I’ll text you my address.” He disconnected the call and slid his phone into his back pocket, then met her gaze. “Are you going to give me a hard time about staying over tonight?” he asked, brushing her hair off her face.