Chaos that quickly spread when about fifteen ladies came into the room, all of them throwing fits.
The men that Rogan had come in with, two people that looked important but didn’t throw their importance around like young Rogan did, maneuvered to flank Rogan.
Which was when I realized that they were his bodyguards.
They stood in front and to the side of him protectively, as if they were just waiting for danger to come his way.
Who the hell was Rogan Germain?
He’d actually talked about himself once, and I’d started to listen, but there was only so much self-absorbed arrogance I could take. I’d zoned out and started reciting my notes in my head.
Ignoring the man and his obvious bodyguards, I walked to the end of the bar and watched as the women fought the men. Like, full out, no holds barred, fought them. There were kicks, punches, lunges, ducks. Seriously, I’d never seen anything more entertaining in my life.
And only when the officers started to swarm the room did things start to calm down enough for me to realize that Rogan was standing incredibly close to me, and it was seriously creeping me out.
I stepped away, right into the path of his bodyguard.
The bodyguard didn’t move, but I could tell that he was doing his best to keep me from moving away from Rogan without being too obvious about it.
“Excuse me,” I said through clenched teeth, trying to get around them.
Rogan shifted closer. The bodyguard shifted sideways, blocking my path.
Which then pissed me off.
“Get back,” I ordered as fiercely as I could.
Rogan laughed, his chilling voice skating like a cold finger down my spine.
“You’re smaller than I imagined you’d be,” Rogan said, reaching for my hair.
I jerked myself back, snarled, and did what my daddy taught me to do when I felt threatened.
I fought back.
Snapping my fist back before either bodyguard could react, I launched it forward and aimed it directly for Rogan’s perfectly straight, aristocratic nose.
It hit with a satisfying crunch.
Seconds later I found myself on the ground with two hundred and fifty pounds of man muscle on top of me, restraining me.
But I wasn’t fighting.
I was laughing.
Why? Because Rogan was whining like a little girl.
The bodyguard’s hands tightened on my arms to the point of pain, and I reared back and slammed the back of my head into the man’s nose, too.
Before the second bodyguard could reach for me, I was on my feet and yanking my leg back to land a solid kick to the bodyguard’s face.
The steel in my steel-toed boots hit the bodyguard’s temple, and he passed out.
Bodyguard two reached for me just as a second pair of hands did, too.
Only, I didn’t struggle when the strong, muscular arm reached around me and pulled me tight to his body.
Because I was very, very familiar with the tattoo on the fingers. Most particularly because I’d had those fingers in my mouth when I was sucking off icing from a couple of donuts.
I went limp.
All the fight went out of me.
“No struggling for me?” he asked, the rasp of his voice making my heart sing.
I licked my lips.
“No.”
One simple word, but the meaning was clear.
I would never struggle when it came to this man.
He squeezed me tight, his arm slipping away from me to be replaced by his hand as he pressed me back into him.
“What happened?” he asked curiously.
I licked my lips, then gestured to the asshole who’d all but cornered me with his two bodyguards.
“They wouldn’t let me go,” I said simply.
Adam made a sound in the back of his throat and I felt my nipples tighten.
“So she goes for the help?” Rogan muttered, his voice thick with the sound of blood filling his nose. “And not me?”
I shot him a disgusted look.
“We’re pressing charges,” Rogan mumbled, his hand covering his bloody nose. “I want her fired. And taken into custody.”
Lynn, who’d appeared at some point during the fight and didn’t look impressed at all, looked over at me. “Go.”
“I have proof, and over thirty witnesses to her attack on me,” Rogan continued as if I was fighting the charges that he was leveling at me. “She seriously could’ve hurt my bodyguard. Might have!”
I looked over at the bodyguard who was holding his head and glaring at me.
I wiggled my fingers at him, making sure to show him what I didn’t think of him with one look, and smiled.
He narrowed his eyes but didn’t make any moves toward me, and I had a feeling that had a lot to do with the scary man at my back.
Fifteen minutes later, once order was established, about fifteen witnesses said that I was the instigator in the fight, I found myself walking out of my place of work in handcuffs.
Handcuffs that Adam hadn’t put on me, but another rookie officer.
Upon breaching the exit of the club, I instantly spotted Adam in the crowd. He was talking to someone that looked official. The moment he saw me, though, he broke off and came my way.