“That isn’t true and you know it.” Brandi took a deep breath. “I’ve been trying to put up with your bullshit because I wanted a better life for my daughter, Mr. Grabbar. But I can’t stand this any longer. I’m leaving.”
She put a hand on the doorknob…only to have it knocked away.
“Oh no you don’t, you little slut!” Suddenly her boss had her by the wrists and was pushing her down across his desk. He twisted her arms up painfully behind her back and gripped them in one hand.
“Let me go, you asshole!” Brandi shouted at the top of her lungs—but she knew no one could hear her. She struggled to break free but Grabbar was on her, as heavy as a mattress, breathing hot, stinking breath against the side of her face.
“You don’t get to tease me for a whole year and not give me at least a taste,” he snarled in Brandi’s ear. “You little cock-tease! I’m taking what’s mine before you go.”
He shifted behind her and Brandi heard the purring sound of a zipper going down.
“No! No!” She kicked back and fishtailed under him but Grabbar was determined and very strong. He was just starting to lift her skirt and pull down her underwear when the door to the office banged open.
“Get your fucking hands off my mate, you son-of-a-bitch!” an angry, familiar voice growled.
“Wha—” Grabbar started to turn around but someone yanked him off Brandi before he could even finish the word.
Brandi turned around and saw Slade standing there, holding her boss two feet off the ground by the scruff of his neck like he was a puppy that had piddled on the carpet. Grabbar was gasping and kicking and choking. Slade had him by the back of his expensive charcoal suit and the front of his Egyptian cotton white linen shirt and the red silk tie he wore with it were choking him as a result.
“Let…let me…down,” he managed to gasp out.
“I don’t think so.” The big Kindred’s mismatched eyes roamed over Brandi and her boss, as though taking in the whole situation. Brandi realized that her skirt was still pulled up and her panties were down while Grabbar’s pathetic looking dick was flopping out of his pants like a limp Vienna Sausage.
Seeing all this, Slade’s look grew even darker and his gold and green eyes began to glow red.
“What the fuck, baby?” he growled at Brandi. “Did he hurt you? Did he—”
Somehow Brandi managed to shake her head.
“N-no. He tried but he…he didn’t get…didn’t do it.” Her voice sounded shaky in her own ears as the reality of the situation started to hit her.
He almost raped me…oh my God, he was just about to when Slade stopped him!
The thought made her feel weak and she almost couldn’t breathe for a moment. Numbly, she fumbled to pull down her skirt and hide her shame. There were hot tears in her eyes and a ringing in her ears.
Shock, she thought. I’m in shock. How had it all happened so suddenly? How had she been caught so off guard?
“You son of a bitch!” Slade shook her boss—her ex-boss now, Brandi thought to herself. “How dare you touch my mate? How fucking dare you?”
“I…didn’t know…she was…yours…” Grabbar choked out angrily. His face was turning the color of ripe beets and his hands were flailing wildly while his feet kicked the air. “Little…tease…never told me.”
“Tease? You dare to talk that way about my mate?” Abruptly Slade changed his grip and took him by the throat. “I should kill you.” His eyes were completely red now, the green and gold swallowed by a glowing ruby color. “I’ve killed males for a hell of a lot less, you raping bastard!”
And then he was squeezing, his big hands wrapped around Grabbar’s fat throat, choking the life out of him.
“Excuse me, Mr. Grabbar? Is there a problem?” A new voice was calling from the end of the hallway. “Someone saw one of the customers come back here and thought we ought to check it out. We—holy shit, we have a situation here!”
Looking around Slade’s broad shoulder, Brandi saw Gus, the nice old security guard who had been watching over the downtown Bank of Tampa branch for thirty years. He was talking into his walkie-talkie and fumbling in his holster for his gun.
“No! No, wait!” Acting on instinct, Brandi ran out of the office and held out her arms, as though she was trying to stop traffic. “Don’t shoot,” she yelled at Gus. “This is my…my…boyfriend,” she settled on at last, not knowing what else to call Slade.
“I don’t care what he is, girlie—he’s tryin’ to kill Mr. Grabbar,” Gus sputtered, still fumbling for his gun. Thank goodness he didn’t seem to notice that the holster was still fastened but any moment now he might figure it out.