I pull her up by the hair and throw her down hard. My fist connects with her cheekbone once, and she flails, screeching, her heels kicking like a dying spider. Her husband is long gone, probably halfway to their shitty Tesla.
I’m drawing back to hit her again when I’m lifted into the air.
“Catalina, baby, you can’t just?—”
Carter’s deep voice slices through the noise. His hands are on my waist a second later, hauling me back against him with practiced ease. His arm wraps around my chest, pulling me flush to his body.
I’m still trying to claw my way out of his hold, but he pulls me harder against his hard body.
“Baby-” he starts.
Then he sees the woman I was beating the fuck out of, he sees her.
He lets out a long breath. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
She sits up slowly, her mascara streaking down her cheeks, blood running down her nose and lip.
“Hi, Carter,” she says like a goddamn ghost.
He doesn’t say anything at first, until he looks at me rubbing my wrist, a bruise already starting to form.
“You touched her?” he spits out.
“She attacked me!”
He steps forward, putting me tightly behind him. “Well you must’ve said something fucking stupid to get your fucking face rearranged.”
She’s stunned silent.
“You fucking left me,” he says coldly, “you left during the hardest time of my fucking life, and now you waltz in here, and touch what’s mine?”
You tell her, baby.
She scoffs, “Please, yours?”
“Yeah,” he growls, “mine. I’ll keep choosing her every single fucking day until your name tastes like poison in my mouth.”
She tries to smirk as she pushes herself to stand. “Carter, you can still have me, I’m all yours, baby. My husband doesn’t care if–”
Carter cuts her off abruptly. “I did have you, I gave you every fucking piece of me until you fucking left me high and dry, with a heart that bled for you. You think I’d fucking want you again?”
She reaches out, her red manicured nails trailing down his tattooed forearms like she still owns him. “Carter, please. You can’t be serious about that piece of trash,” she sneers, jerking her chin at me. “She looks like a washed-up sk–”
My whole body vibrates with fury. I move past Carter, and punch her again, this time my fist hits her perfectly plastic nose, bone crunching underneath my knuckles.
She hits the floor, squealing like a little bitch, clutching her precious nose.
“Oh my god! My new nose!”
I stand over her, my fists clenched at my sides. “Call me trash again, bitch. I fucking dare you. I’ll drag you by your fake Chanel through this bar like the goddamn cunt you are.”
Her husband is back, only this time he’s standing there like a wax statue, green eyes wide, like he doesn’t know what the fuck to do.
Carter meets the pathetic husband’s eyes. “You might wanna get your wife outta here before she eats another fucking fist,” he says, calmly.
They both scatter, one of her cheap ass heels breaks on the way out.
Good, I hope it fucking cuts her.
