Cash slowed the car in front of the Tavern. There was no meter parking outside the bar, so he had to drive to the next block to find a spot. He and Dylan strode down the sidewalk a few minutes later, scanning both sides of the road for Seth’s Jeep.
“There they are.” Dylan shoved his fingers in his mouth and whistled to get Seth and Jackson’s attention.
The after-work happy hour was in full swing when the four men entered the bar. Cash took the lead, pausing at the edge of the main room to search the crowd for lone male patrons. All he saw were groups of three or four, clad in business attire and chatting over beers and cocktails.
His gaze shifted toward the bar, the haven for single males. Out of the dozen people occupying the tall stools, most were older men who wore weathered, tired looks as they silently nursed their drinks. One man seemed around the right age, but his gleaming shaved head and plethora of tattoos, including one circling his thick neck, told Cash the guy was no investment banker.
He continued his inspection. Bingo. A man in his late twenties or early thirties sat at the far end of the counter. He had a slick look to him—perfectly styled brown hair, clean-shaven face, expensive Rolex on his wrist. He wore a black suit, no tie, with an open-collar white shirt. Cash couldn’t deny the guy was handsome, but something about those sharp clothes and deep smirk rubbed him the wrong way.
“Nine o’clock,” he murmured.
The others followed his gaze. “That him?” Seth murmured back.
“Let’s go and find out.”
They started walking. The bartender lifted her head at their approach, her eyes lighting with unconcealed appreciation, but as they got closer, her expression faded to wariness.
Her concern didn’t surprise Cash. The four of them made an intimidating sight. Six-feet-plus, two hundred pounds of muscle, and in military-issued shitkickers.
They moved toward Mr. Slick the way they moved on an op—with single-minded focus and a helluva lot of aggression.
The man looked startled when he noticed them. He set down the wine glass he’d been sipping. “Can I help you?” he asked coolly.
Cash instantly recognized the gravelly voice. “You Brendan?” he said, equally cool.
“Who’s asking?”
“My friends and I were hoping to have a little chat with you.”
Brendan’s shoulders stiffened. “Screw off. I’m waiting for someone.”
Cash bared his teeth in a not-so-pleasant smile. “Yeah, about that… I’m afraid Jen won’t be coming.”
Surprise flared in Brendan’s dark eyes. “What are you talking about? Who are you?”
Behind the counter, the bartender frowned.
“I’ve got this,” Jackson said. He moved toward the pretty brunette, resting his elbows on the counter and flashing that aw-shucks smile of his. “Don’t worry, sugar, there won’t be any trouble,” he drawled. “Just a few friends shootin’ the breeze.”
“Who are you?” Brendan repeated, beginning to look irritated.
Cash’s smile widened. “Oh, I didn’t introduce myself? I’m Jen’s boyfriend.”
The other man’s jaw went slack. Then he scowled. “Bullshit.”
“Sorry, but it’s the truth. And see, as her boyfriend, I’ve gotta admit I’m getting really fucking annoyed with your harassment.”
Brendan slid off the stool in a huff. “I don’t believe you. Jen would never go out with someone like you.”
He raised a brow. “Someone like me?”
“Yeah, the dumb muscleman type.” Contempt dripped from Brendan’s voice. “Military too, from the looks of you. Jen doesn’t date military muscle heads.”
Cash exchanged a grin with Dylan and Seth. Jackson turned away from the bartender and flashed a grin of his own before resuming his flirting.
“Military muscle heads, huh?” Cash shrugged. “Well, these military muscle heads want to talk to you outside.”
“Fuck off.”
Brendan tried to take a step, but he hit a wall of—surprise—muscle. Dylan and Seth flanked Cash, and all three crossed their arms over their chests.
“Get out of my way,” Brendan said through visibly clenched teeth.
“That’s not gonna happen,” Cash replied. “Not until we get some things straight. You’ve got two options here. Either you calmly follow us outside so we can continue this discussion, or I drag you out by the collar of your shirt.”
“I’d choose option one,” Dylan suggested.
“Yeah,” Seth agreed. “That shirt looks expensive. Wouldn’t want it getting ripped when Cash hauls you outta here.”
Brendan took another step forward. Hit another wall of muscle. Bitterness crept into his tone as he capitulated. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Cash clapped his hand on the guy’s shoulder and led him to the hallway at the rear of the bar. They received a few odd looks from the wait staff as they crossed the employees-only area.
A metal door met them at the end of the corridor. It led out to a narrow alley separating the Tavern from the neighboring Chinese restaurant. Dumpsters cluttered the space, and the smell of garbage and urine wafted in the air. The sun hadn’t completely set yet, but the sky was cloudy, casting gray shadows over the alley.
Once outside, Brendan got a taste of freedom and took a few steps forward, his gaze glued to the opening of the alley.
Cash stepped in his path. “Hey now, no running off,” he said pleasantly. “We haven’t had a chance to talk yet.”
Seth and Dylan flanked him again, while Jackson remained near the door.
“Look,” Brendan blurted out, “I don’t know who you are, but my relationship with Jen is none of your business.”
“Relationship?” Cash made a tsking noise. “She dumped you, and instead of handling the breakup like a mature adult, you decided to play these sick games with her. But it stops tonight, understand?” Tightening his jaw, he got right in the other man’s face. “Stop emailing her. Stop calling. Stop harassing her family and friends. As of this moment, Jen does not exist to you.”
Brendan looked livid, but his jaw remained shut.
“She doesn’t want to see you, she doesn’t want to talk to you. Hell, she doesn’t want to think about you. It’s time for you to get the message. Go to Oakland, do your investment banking thing, and leave Jen alone.”
Brendan’s nostrils flared. “Who the hell do you think you are, ordering me around? I don’t know you, asshole. And you know nothing about my relationship with—”
“Again with this relationship bullshit?” Cash sighed. “Just nod and tell me you understand, bro. If you don’t, the only relationship you’ll be having is the one with my fist.”
Dylan snickered.
On Cash’s other side, Seth reached into his pocket for a pack of Marlboros. He extracted a smoke and lit up, looking bored as he inhaled. But the deadly look in his eyes belied the casual pose. Seth could rip Brendan to pieces in a nanosecond, if provoked.
Brendan went silent, his gaze shifting from one man to the other. Then, knowing he was beaten, he mumbled a curse and said, “Fine. I won’t bother her again. Happy, asshole?”
“Ecstatic. Now that we’ve cleared all this up, you can—”
The right hook blindsided Cash.
Fortunately, he saw the fist coming at his nose at the last second and shifted his head so that Brendan missed the intended target. The blow sliced into the corner of Cash’s mouth instead. His bottom lip snagged on his teeth and the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth.
Oh, hell no.
As Jen’s ex charged forward with a second attack, Cash struck him with a jab that made the man’s head snap back. With a roar, Brendan threw another punch, which Cash easily blocked. Blood continued to pour from the side of his mouth, but he didn’t bother wiping it away. Blocking the fists swinging in his direction, Cash sidestepped and got his arms around the guy from behind.
“Are you done?” he demanded as he secured Brendan in a chest lock.
“Screw you!” was the sputtered response. And then the guy elbowed him in the jaw before spinning around and landing a lucky kick on Cash’s groin.
Years of training had taught him to ignore the pain zipping through his balls. Without so much as flinching, he drew his arm back, but Seth’s fist beat him to it.
A sickening crunch sounded in the air.
Blood erupted from Brendan’s nose. His hands flew to his face. “You fucking asshole!” he shouted. “You broke my nose!”
Seth just chuckled. “Shouldn’t have played dirty, going for McCoy’s balls like that.”
Seth retreated and walked over to Dylan, who’d watched the entire scuffle with visible amusement.
Cash got in Brendan’s face again. “This is your last warning. Stay away from Jen. If you try to make contact again, my boys and I will pay you another visit, and trust me, next time you’ll have a lot more than a broken nose.”
He stepped back just as sirens wailed.
Shit.
Cash caught the flicker of alarm on Dylan’s face, the resignation in Seth and Jackson’s expressions.
A moment later, a car door slammed and footsteps thudded into the alley.
He didn’t need to turn around to know what awaited them.
“This is the San Diego PD! Hands in the air!”
