Brian was still groggy from the long flight, but he didn't think he was hallucinating. There was something intimate between Myrna and this guy who had his hand wrapped around her arm.
The tall man turned and his eyes widened. "This has to be a joke, Myrna. Your new boyfriend is a thug?"
"He's not a thug," she whispered. "He's perfect."
"Am I interrupting something?" Brian asked, his brows raised in question.
Myrna's hands clenched into fists. Her entire body was shaking. He could see it from halfway across the room. Something wasn't right here. Who was this guy? And why was he touching Myrna with such familiarity? Had she actually been in such a hurry to return to Kansas City so she could rendezvous with some secret lover of hers? She'd known he was on his way. Surely she wasn't stupid enough to get caught this easily.
"You can leave, thug. My wife and I are getting back together." The man wrapped an arm around Myrna's shoulders and tucked her against his side. His lips brushed her temple.
Brian's heart slammed into his chest. "Wife?" Brian sputtered.
This was Jeremy? This handsome, clean-cut man was the evil son-of-a-bitch who had damaged Myrna so severely she couldn't stand the sound of the word love? It couldn't be. Brian was certain Jeremy had curved horns, thick red skin, glowing eyes, and cloven hooves. This guy, who belonged on a Christmas card dressed in a reindeer sweater surrounded by his doting wife, 2.5 kids, and his faithful golden retriever, could not be Jeremy. Not possible. Besides, weren't they divorced?
Myrna shook her head and opened her mouth, but didn't produce a sound. Brian had never seen her look so pale. He decided she wasn't freaked out because he'd caught her in the act with some good-looking man. She was terrified. But Brian was here now. He wouldn't let this asshole hurt her again. Not physically. Not emotionally. Not psychologically. Brian wouldn't give him the chance.
"So you're Jeremy," Brian said, easing further into the apartment. No sudden movements. There was no telling what this crazy bastard was capable of.
Jeremy smiled and tossed his blond head with a self-satisfied grin on his perfect face. "She told you about me, did she?"
"Oh yeah, she told me all about you." Brian's rage simmered beneath the surface, but he knew he had to keep it restrained. His first instinct was to pound the shit out of this guy, but he didn't want to scare Myrna. Brian didn't want her to think he was anything like this prick.
Jeremy trailed his fingers up and down Myrna's upper arm as he waited for Brian to make his move. Myrna stood frozen at his side, looking nauseous with anxiety. When Jeremy eased her closer, she whimpered.
Brian's rage erupted. "Get your fucking hands off her." He crossed the room in three strides, his fisted hands raised in threat.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa !" Jeremy said, bike-pedaling backwards and shifting Myrna in front of his body for protection. "I know you thugs settle your differences with violence, but civilized men—"
"You're about to find out how violent this thug can get, you piece-of-shit pansy. I told you to get your fucking hands off Myrna. I mean now ."
Jeremy dropped his hands from Myrna's shoulders.
Emitting a gasp of relief, she took a step toward Brian. He opened his arms to draw her near, but Jeremy grabbed her again. She flinched as if he'd struck her.
Brian's heart thudded faster. His eyes narrowed. "I warned you, asshole," he said. "Now I'm going to kick your ass."
Brian advanced on Jeremy, but before he could land a blow, Myrna stepped between them and lifted her hands to stop him. "No, Brian. Don't hit him."
Brian's eyes widened. She was defending him? How could she defend him? Maybe what Jeremy had said about them getting back together had been the truth. He certainly looked the part of her husband—attractive , clean-cut, wealthy, and well-educated. Perfect manners. Perfect face. Perfect body. Everything Myrna deserved in a husband. Certainly a more practical choice than Brian. Even he couldn't deny that reality.
Brian shook his head at his thoughts. No. Jeremy didn't deserve her. He had hurt her in every way imaginable. She didn't need someone who looked proper standing beside her. She needed someone who supported her and let her be herself. She needed Brian, dammit, even if she wouldn't admit it.
"I'm not just going to hit him," Brian said. "I'm going to beat the shit out of him."
"No, please don't."
Brian could not believe that she was still trying to protect the jerk. Was she mental? "Why not? He deserves it."
"Because," she said, looking up at him with concern in her pretty, hazel eyes, "you'll hurt your hands." She grabbed a tall, crystal vase off a nearby end table and shoved it into his chest. "Use this instead."
Brian grinned and lifted the vase in one hand, testing its weight. "You sure? This is a really nice vase. It's also heavy. Potentially lethal." He glanced at Jeremy, satisfied to see fear in his eyes. Brian shifted his gaze to the flowers littering the floor by the door. "And you have some nice flowers over there that someone—not me, once again—delivered personally…"
Myrna careened into Brian as Jeremy shoved her out of the way. Jeremy sprinted toward the front door, but Brian grabbed him by the collar of his baby blue polo shirt before he could get out into the corridor. "Where do you think you're going?" Brian shut the door with his foot.
"Let me go!"
"I don't think you understand. I have a serious beef with you, dude. And I very much want to cause you permanent harm."
"I'm going to go call the police," Myrna said. "He's not supposed to be anywhere near me."
Brian was glad to see her confidence returning. He'd scarcely recognized her when he first arrived. "Great idea. I'll keep this guy occupied until they get here."
As soon as she disappeared into a room at the back of her apartment, Jeremy took a wild swing at Brian. Brian ducked. In his youth, he had been in more fights than he could count and it was obvious that this wuss had never squared off with a man. No, he was the type of coward who hit women and kicked puppies.
Jeremy struggled against Brian's hold on the back of his collar. "Get your hands off me, you filthy thug. If you so much as scratch me, my father will have you put away for the rest of your life."
"You're going to tell your daddy on me? You're even more pathetic than I realized." Brian jerked him away from the door and shoved him into a wingback chair. "Have a seat while we wait for your handcuffs to be delivered."
When Jeremy tried to get up, Brian put a fist in his face.
"Now listen to me, you son-of-a-bitch, the only thing preventing me from tearing your head off and pissing down your neck hole is realizing what a mess your blood would make on Myrna's carpet. So you just sit there calmly or I might do something you won't live long enough to regret." Talking trash usually did the trick with this type of coward, but Brian would be more than happy to turn his threats into reality. He would take great pleasure in rearranging this guy's overly handsome face.
"I really don't understand why you have it out for me. If it's because I called you a thug, then I apologize for that."
Jeremy oozed charm from every pore, but Brian wasn't buying it. "I don't care what you think of me, you arrogant ass. You hit a woman. My woman. You are on the top of my shit list."
"I don't know where you got your information. I would never hit a woman. Especially not Myrna. I love her." He closed his eyes and shuddered with tormented ecstasy. "Oh God, I love you, Myrna. I love you so much."
Brian's nose wrinkled and the skin on the back of his neck crawled. This guy was five brewskies short of a six pack. "No wonder she hates that word."
Jeremy opened his eyes, a cold grin spreading across his face. Creepy . Make that six brewskies short.
"She's never said it to you, has she?" Jeremy chuckled with an odd merriment. "And she never will. She won't tell you she loves you, because she still loves me. I own her heart forever. I made sure of it. She'll always be mine. Eternally. I ruined her for all other men. And I did it on purpose." Jeremy lowered his chin, and stared up at Brian with icy blue eyes. "Thug."
Myrna came back into the room with her cell phone in her hand. "They're on their way."
Jeremy launched himself out of his chair and shoved Brian backward with both hands. Brian stumbled, regained his footing, and headed after him. He should never have let his guard down. Jeremy yanked the door open. Brian thrust his arm in front of him to stop his progress. Sneering maliciously, Jeremy slammed the door. On Brian's hand.
"Ow! Fuck." Brian cradled his crushed hand against his chest.
"You idiot," Myrna yelled and jumped on Jeremy's back.
Her knees digging into Jeremy's sides to keep herself clinging to his body, she repeatedly slapped him on the head with both hands. "You stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid—"
"Ow, Myrna, that hurts. Stop it," Jeremy complained.
She continued to slap him, punctuating her blows with, "Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid."
Brian watched, strangely amused by her tirade. Jeremy tried to dislodge her from his back, but she had him in a leg lock he had no hope of escaping.
Brian's left hand was already so swollen that he couldn't make a proper fist. He hoped to God it wasn't broken. But seeing Myrna slap the shit out of Jeremy in retaliation? Totally worth it.
Jeremy covered his head with his arms to try to block her continued flat-palmed slaps.
"I hate you," she bellowed. "I hate you. I hate you." When the tears started flowing, Brian couldn't stand there and watch anymore. He touched the center of her back and she hesitated. She turned her head to look at him, tears streaming down her face and dripping off her jaw.
"It's okay, baby," he murmured. "Come here."
She fell into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. She sobbed against his shoulder, drenching his shirt in seconds. He stroked her back and rubbed his lips against her hair. "It's okay. I'm here. I've got you. Shh."
Finally free, Jeremy yanked the door open and found two police officers standing on the threshold.
"Are you Jeremy Condaroy?" one of the officers asked.
"No, but thank God you're here. You arrived just in time," Jeremy said. "That's him. Right there." He pointed at Brian.