Colin had no time to think. He acted on instinct. He covered his patient with his own body, head down, ready to take the blow to his torso.
He heard the impact and shattering glass, but he didn't feel pain.
Instead, he heard a woman's scream and men's shouting, which suddenly cut off as if sliced with a knife.
Something had happened.
What?
Cautiously, he straightened and turned just in time to see Brad Lipski, his hand around the biker's throat, shoving him across the room.
Lipski was slimmer than the bald guy, weighed maybe half as much, yet he tossed him around like a ragdoll.
What the hell?
Everyone in the bar stared, not daring to move a muscle.
Colin could smell their sour fear.
They were… afraid?
Of Brad?
The biker's back slammed against the wall. His face was turning blue from the grip, but no one reacted. No one even twitched.
Brad's hand squeezed tightly, his arm muscles taut as he pinned the man harder against the wall.
"No…" Colin barely managed to get the word out. His voice was so quiet that no one heard him.
"No… what are you…?"
"If you ever raise your hand again against someone under my protection..." Brad's voice trailed off, a sound of pure menace. His grip tightened, and the biker's face turned purple.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Colin yelled, rushing toward them without thinking. "Let him go! You're killing him!"
Brad released him immediately.
The biker collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.
Colin knelt beside him, checking his throat, listening to his breathing. It seemed like no severe damage had been done, but it had been close.
Damn testosterone, Stone thought. That damn Lipski could have killed the guy...
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Out of the corner of his eye, Colin noticed blood dripping from somewhere.
Red droplets fell rhythmically, forming an expanding puddle. Slowly, he lifted his gaze and saw the blood trickling from Brad's hand. Then higher—his bare forearm, visibly wounded, with shards of glass embedded in the flesh.
He shuddered.
That glass was meant for his body. If Lipski hadn't shielded him...
That only irritated Colin more. He didn't need anyone putting themselves in danger for him. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins. Damn it, what the hell was Lipski doing? What was he thinking, throwing himself in front of Colin without any protection...?
"Brad, that needs to be treated."
It wasn't Stone who said those words but the dark-haired bartender. She took Lipski's hand and pulled him aside.
"You're going to get blood all over my bar."
"Sorry," Brad muttered, looking embarrassed. "I lost it."
"It's fine," the woman said, guiding him gently but firmly. "You took him down properly. He won't be causing trouble anymore."
"Yeah... but..."
He allowed himself to be led away.
Colin should have been the one treating his wound. He was the doctor, but first, he had to make sure the strangled man was really okay. The guy was coughing and choking, struggling to breathe. A wounded hand with shards of glass was nothing compared to a murder charge.
"You got lucky," Stone growled at the man he was examining. He was almost certain there was no serious damage. Lipski had cut off blood flow to his brain, but not tightly enough to crush anything. The strangulation had been brief. The guy hadn't even lost consciousness. Thank God.
"You might have trouble speaking for a few days, but you'll live. Go to the hospital just to be sure."
The man looked back and forth between him and Lipski, his eyes a mix of fear and hatred. People with that look—especially the ones prone to uncontrollable aggression—tended to seek revenge.
Colin clenched his teeth.
"He could have squeezed harder," he said quietly. "If he really wanted to, he could have choked you out with one hand. I didn't expect him to be that strong..."
He wasn't sure why he said it. Was he trying to make the man realize how lucky he was? To warn him not to provoke Lipski again? Maybe. Hopefully.
The biker's expression didn't change, but his lips moved as if he were silently cursing.
Damn it! This was his first night in this godforsaken place!