Breaker's Point Bad Boy Billionaires Boxset (34 page)

"What the hell are you doing?" The shout from Cami drew Griffin's attention, and he couldn't help but admire her as she strode across the floor towards Spike.

She reached him quickly, just as he had cracked open a bottle of vodka and was taking a long swig from it, and grabbed the bottle from his hands. Alcohol poured down the front of his shirt and Griffin fought to keep the smile from his face.

"I've tolerated you in here all day, but this is too much. I want you all out," Cami said, her voice firm as she started to put away the bottles again.

"We're not going anywhere. We like it in here, and if you want us gone then you know what you need to do. You can call the cops." There was a grim smile on Spike’s face as he reached out to take back the bottle.

She swatted his hand away with a dishrag and bent to put the bottles back beneath the counter.

Griffin saw it coming; the look on Spike's face changed his smile disappearing as he made a grab at her.

"Look out!" Griffin shouted, but his voice was lost in the sound of bottles crashing to the floor as Spike grabbed Cami by the neck and slammed her into the shelves standing behind the bar.

Griffin hopped over the counter and dived towards Spike as the other man raised his fist with the intention of slamming it into the cute bartender's face.

Griffin wrapped his arms around his bandmate's torso, dragging him backwards and away from the stunned woman he'd just attacked. He watched her drop to her knees when Spike released her, her legs buckling beneath her as she crumpled onto the glass-covered floor.

Griffin had a moment to wonder how badly she was hurt before Spike spun around in his arms and drove his fist up into Griffin's jaw.

Pain bloomed in his face, his head snapping back with the force of the blow. It never ceased to amaze him just how strong Spike truly was. He looked weedy and weak, but Griffin knew he was actually wiry and fast.

Spike was on him before he even had the opportunity to properly react, his blows raining down on Griffin’s body as he fought to push him off.

Balling his hands into fists, Griffin lashed out, his punch catching Spike squarely in the face. Blood exploded from the cut that appeared between Spike’s eyebrows and the telltale crunch of bone told Griffin that he'd broken the other man's nose.

Spike growled and made a dive towards Griffin, blood dripping down the front of his face. Griffin caught Spike as he barrelled into his chest, the momentum carrying them both to the ground, the blow temporarily knocking the air out of Griffin's lungs.

C
ami's body
erupted in fiery pain that spread out from the place of impact in her back to the rest of her body. Her head spun as she dropped to the floor.

The glinting shards of glass bit into her legs and hands and the alcohol that covered the floor stung against the tiny cuts in her skin as it soaked into her clothes.

A grunt of pain from the other side of the bar brought her back to her senses, and Cami found herself fighting a little harder to clear the fog of pain that threatened to descend over her mind. She'd suffered far worse in the past and survived; a few cuts and scrapes now weren’t going to keep her down.

She pushed herself to her feet, wincing as she tried to shake the worst of the glass from her clothes. The guy who'd attacked her slammed into the smooth-talking charmer, the two of them colliding with the floor as they continued to fight.

Why? Why did this always happen when she was alone in the bar? Fights never broke out when Fintan was working there with her. Although, if Cami was being honest, she knew exactly why fights never broke out when Fintan was the bartender. There was something about the six foot eight bruiser that sent the troublemakers scurrying for the hills but, despite his appearance, Cami knew he was all bark and no bite.

Hobbling to the end of the bar, Cami dragged open a small concealed drawer, the sawn off shotgun that sat inside making her stomach flip uncomfortably.

It wouldn't be the first time she'd handled a weapon, but it was certainly the last thing she wanted to do. Gripping it tightly in her hands, she hefted it out of the drawer and made her way around the edge of the counter to where the two men continued to struggle on the floor.

The asshole that had attacked her landed a nasty blow to the ribs of the guy who'd dragged him away. Cami raised the shotgun to her shoulder.

The rest of the bar's occupants fell silent as the telltale sound of the gun's hammer being cocked filled the air.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just pull the trigger." She fought to keep her voice level, but she could hear a slight tremor within it that disappointed her. After everything she'd been through, why did her resolution to defend herself by any means necessary still fill her with anxiety and fear?

The sweet talker spotted her first, his green eyes widening in fear as they came to rest on the shotgun she was aiming in his direction.

The other man spun around, his mouth dropping open when he saw the loaded gun pointing his way.

She watched as both men backed up, the sweet talker raising his hands in surrender as he carefully studied her every movement. But Cami knew she didn't really have to worry about him. He was a little irritating with his sickly-sweet charming comments, but she knew he meant her no harm.

The other one, however, was a different animal altogether. Cami had seen the look in his eyes when she'd taken away the bottle of vodka, the hatred that had twisted his features seconds before he'd slammed her into the wall.

She didn't know him; just like everyone else, she'd seen him on the TV a few times, but as far as she was aware she'd never done anything to make him hate her. There was only one other guy who'd ever looked at her like that, and Cami hadn't hung around long enough to find out just how deeply his hatred had run.

"I wouldn't point that thing at me unless you know how to use it," the asshole said, his shoulders relaxing as he started to lower his hands.

Cami resettled the gun and sighted down the short barrel, letting all of her dislike for him pour into a cold smile that twisted her lips. He faltered, something akin to fear flickering in his eyes for a second as he moistened his lips nervously with his tongue.

"I know how to use it, so get the hell out of the bar before I show you exactly what I want to do with it."

His eyes darted from side to side as though assessing his options before he finally seemed to relent, surrender flooding through his eyes as Cami watched.

He pushed himself to his feet, his hands still raised in the air. The look he gave her as he headed for the door was far from friendly, but Cami didn't care. The only thing that really mattered was that he was gone.

She let out a long sigh and returned her gaze to the smooth talker who still sat on the floor, his hands raised above his head. Blood trickled from the side of his mouth and dripped down onto his dark shirt.

Cami let her stance relax, easing her finger off the trigger before sliding the safety catch back into place. She turned away from the guy on the floor and headed back to the bar, returning the shotgun to its hiding place once more and ignoring the whispered conversations starting to fill the silence.

"Are you all right?" Smooth talker's voice seemed far too close for comfort. Cami spun around and found herself face to face with his broad chest.

She took a small step backwards, a half smile crossing her lips as she lifted her gaze to the bruises that were beginning to bloom across his face.

"I could ask you the same thing. I'm pretty sure I fared better in all of this than you did."

He grinned and rubbed his chin, his smile wilting as his fingers came away from his face bloodied.

"Son of a bitch, I'm going to kick his ass when I see him again."

"Yeah, you were doing such a stellar job that round two is definitely a good idea," Cami said, sarcasm giving her voice an edge.

Hurt flashed through the smooth talker's eyes, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared. Cami found herself wondering if she'd even really seen it at all. Perhaps it was just her imagination.

"Well, Spike is a wily bastard. Look, I'm really sorry about all of this. I don't know what he was thinking."

Cami nodded and slipped behind the bar, heading for the mop and bucket while moving carefully over the broken glass and sticky alcohol that covered the floor.

"Assholes don't think, which tends to be their biggest issue…" She trailed off and chewed her lip as she shot a glance back over her shoulder to where he stood.

His bravado had slipped and there was something innocent and vulnerable in its place. It seemed ridiculous that a guy like him would even have a vulnerable side, but a rawness that only real hurt could create was there in his eyes.

"Look, thanks about earlier. I owe you one." The words slipped out before she had the chance to stop them.

What the hell was she thinking? That was the last thing she should say to him. The very worst thing she could do was owe him anything. Life was already complicated enough without adding to her issues.

He lifted his gaze to hers, his expression instantly changing. The vulnerability she had just witnessed melted away, replaced once more by the smooth-talking charmer he had been earlier.

"That's a dangerous thing to promise."

Cami sighed and shook her head as she stepped into the back room and grabbed the mop and bucket.

"I didn't promise anything; I just thanked you. I was being polite, nothing more and nothing less. Didn't your mother teach you the meaning of manners?"

He shrugged and smiled, an award-winning grin that sent a shiver of desire racing down through Cami's spine.

"Well, in exchange for saving you, I have just one request," he said, his smile widening to reveal a dimple in his right cheek.

Cami rolled her eyes, but it was more an attempt to drag her gaze away from his hypnotic eyes.

"What?" She could already imagine what he was going to ask of her, and she had the perfect answer sitting pretty on the tip of her tongue.

"Please don't make me drink any more of that foul cheap ass whiskey you were giving me earlier."

Cami had been so certain that she'd known what he was going to ask that his actual request rendered her speechless. His expression was so earnest that she found it practically impossible to work out just how serious he was being.

He started to laugh, his earnest expression giving way to one of pure joy, and Cami found it impossible to ignore such infectious emotion. Laughter bubbled out of her, stealing her breath and forcing her to double over and grip the handle of the mop tightly, just so she could stay on her feet.

"Fine, no more of the cheap nasty," she said, finally recovering long enough to catch her breath and give him an answer. "I'm Cami, by the way."

"Griffin." He smiled and gestured to the mop in her hands, his smile brightening his eyes and making him look younger than he had when he'd first strolled in to the bar. "Want me to give you a hand with that?"

Cami shook her head and gave the floor a half-hearted rub with the mop head, the glass tinkling across the tile.

"Nah, it's fine. I'm used to cleaning up breaks and spills. I wasn't always the proficient bartender you see standing before you today."

Griffin grinned again and slid onto the barstool he'd vacated when the fight broke out.

Cami let the mop drop against the counter and reached below the bar for a fresh towel. Holding it in the palm of her hand, she quickly filled it with a handful of ice straight from the bucket and wrapped it in the cloth before handing it to him.

"You're going to need to do something about that or the swelling is going to be unbearable in the morning."

He took the cloth and pressed it gingerly against the side of his face. Cami suppressed a smile as he winced.

"So are you going to tell me why you're here, Griffin, causing trouble in my bar instead of off doing something famous people do?"

"Can't famous people cause trouble in small bars?"

"Not unless there's a camera to catch it all," Cami said, grabbing the mop once more and beginning to scrub the floor in earnest. Her back ached and the alcohol was still stinging the little cuts that decorated the sides of her hands.

It was going to be one hell of a job to make sure that all the little splinters were properly removed, but a trip to the emergency room was strictly out of the question.

"No offence, but I didn't chose the bar. Spike did."

"Spike's the asshole who attacked me?"

Griffin nodded, his face turning serious as his green eyes swept down over her body. Cami couldn't help the heat that spread up her neck and into her face as his gaze lingered on her a little longer than was necessary.

"Are you sure you don't want me to do that?" he asked, pushing himself up to his feet.

Cami shook her head once more and repositioned the mop in her hands before letting out a small yelp as a shard of glass bit into the side of her palm.

Griffin hurried around the bar before she could properly react, his hand taking the mop away as he lifted her arm and studied the small cuts and scrapes that dotted her skin.

Cami tried to draw away from his grip. His body was close—too close—and she could practically feel the heat rising from his skin. Heat that was beginning to scorch through her clothes and tingle along her body.

"Stop moving or you're only going to drive the splinters in deeper," Griffin said, his voice low and his breath whispering against her skin as he bent over her.

"It's fine, really, it's nothing…" Cami trailed off and bit down on her lip to suppress a whimper of pain as he pinched his fingers against her palm.

He straightened up to reveal a short splice down the side of Cami's hand and a long razor-sharp splinter of glass held between his fingers.

"You've got a few more but I think I've gotten the worst offender."

"Thanks," Cami said, trying to draw her hand out of his, but he held on to her, his fingers tightening around her wrist almost imperceptibly.

He looked up into her face, his green eyes darkening, and Cami felt her heart stuttering in her chest as he leaned in towards her.

He was going to kiss her. She could see the intention written in his eyes, and for a moment she found herself wanting to give in, to sway against him as his lips found hers.

Sophie.

The name popped unbidden into Cami's head and she jerked back, away from Griffin's reach. The look of surprise on his face filling her with regret for what could never be.

"I'm sorry, I just…" She turned away and headed for the door that led to the back room behind the bar.

"Cami, wait…" he called out to her, and the excitement that had zipped through her body just seconds before begged her to turn around and go back to him.

Instead, she pushed open the door and slipped through it, the darkness of the room engulfing her as she shut it behind her and pressed her back against it.

Griffin knocked, his voice calling out to her, asking to know what he'd done wrong. Asking questions Cami couldn't answer. She couldn't explain it to him. Even if she could, he would never understand.

No, all she could do was wait for him to give up and walk away.

Griffin Reynolds was a risk, a risk Cami couldn't afford to take no matter how much her body begged her to, no matter how much her heart yearned for it.

She'd fought too hard for everything she'd achieved. Whether he would mean to or not, Griffin was the type of man who could bring it all tumbling down around her ears far too easily with his brilliant green eyes and electric touch.