Accidentaly Divine by Dakota Cassidy (books to read romance .txt) 📕

tune playing on the jukebox. As she looked around at the customers, a raggedy bunch of mostly greasy unkempt men, her eyes fell on the dance floor where a woman, her long blonde hair mussed, her clothes rumpled and worn, hung limply in the arms of a man the size of two linebackers.

He hoisted her up, pressing her hips against his as he ground against her, swaying precariously drunk to the music. His beard was scraggly, some of his teeth missing. And if they weren’t missing, they were stained yellow. His nails dirty with grease.

His big hand palmed the near unconscious woman’s backside, hauling her to him over and over to keep her upright, as he gnawed on her neck as though she were a piece of jerky. It was clear she was barely able to stand, let alone give her consent to such a provocative dance.

Almost the moment George spotted the man and woman on the dance floor, Justin sprang out of a dark corner and jammed his face in the man’s, grabbing for the woman with clumsy hands.

“Let her go!” he yelled, his poor nose swollen, his eyes wild in the dim lighting.

“Didn’t I tell you to get the fuck outta here, little man?” the guy yelled so loud, they heard him over the obnoxious music. “You want me to knock the shit outta you again? You want a fat lip to match your broken nose? Go the fuck away, pissant. It’s adult time, and your mama and me—we got some adult things to do.”

The men in the far corner chuckled, obviously this pig’s cohorts, egging him on. “Get the little shit, Dwight!” one of them yelled with a slur to his words.

George’s skin crawled as Justin clawed at his beefy bare arm, covered only by a thin T-shirt. “I said let her go, scumbag! She’s too drunk to know any better! Please let her go!”

He swatted at Justin as though he were nothing more than a fly. The desperation in the boy’s tone, the pleading, rankled George—and that’s when she lost her cool.

Her eyes narrowed and her heart rate slowed. George didn’t think, she didn’t wait for Nina to assess, she didn’t test the waters. Instead, she stomped across the sticky barroom floor, her heels clacking in her ears, and pushed Justin out of the way, surprising him and making him yelp a protest.

But she wasn’t paying attention to Justin anymore. She had her eyes firmly planted on the filthy man. “Let the woman go,” she seethed as Nina and Dex began to approach him from behind.

The thug let his head fall back on his shoulders, his long, straggly hair hanging halfway down his back as he laughed a gurgling, phlegmy cackle. “What’re you gonna do if I don’t, little girl?” he leered, the stench of cheap beer wafting under her nose.

“Stop, Miss Maverick! Please don’t get involved!” Justin pleaded, grabbing at her arm.

But all the years of her anger, all of her helpless rage had found an outlet, and it was with this man’s red, puffy face.

Without thinking, without a single care for the number of people in the room, and without any internal warning at all, she balled her fist and jabbed at his pockmarked nose with a hard right—snapping her fist back as quickly as she shot it forward.

His head whipped back, making him let go of Justin’s mother, who almost crumpled to the floor. But Nina was there, scooping her up and throwing her over her shoulder in time to swing around and find two men approaching her.

George didn’t have to think twice about the vampire’s safety. These two men who would regret ever considering a woman like Nina wouldn’t be able to pulverize them.

Dwight, no longer surprised, his nose bleeding profusely, didn’t appear to notice Nina or Dex. He grabbed for George, but she didn’t cringe away from his dirty paws in the way one would expect.

No, she leaned into her rage, lobbing herself at him, hauling herself up on his body and wrapping an arm around his neck to take another swing at his head, ramming her fist into his temple over and over, screaming, “Are you deaf, Simpleton? He said let his mother go! Did you hear that, Dwight? When someone says let go, you damn well let go!”

Dwight howled when her ring caught his skin only seconds before Dex yanked her away, setting her behind him as Dwight ran straight toward them.

Dex stopped him with one blow to the stomach, making Dwight fall to the floor with an agonizing crack of flesh against sticky wood.

Everyone else scattered like cockroaches under the beam of a flashlight, hitting the doors with a scurry of feet, the cold air whispering across her face as they ran out the door.

Somewhere along the way, Nina had set Justin’s mother down in a booth and latched on to Dwight’s friends, grabbing them by the hair on their head. She dragged them to the door, dropping them like squirming, squealing sacks of potatoes.

Then she knelt down and hissed, “You two little motherfuckers better take your asses on outta here, or I’m gonna wipe one end of this bar to the other with you greasy, weak fucks. You hear me?” Then she flashed her fangs at them.

Both of the men bolted upright and crab-walked backward with terrified eyes and heaving chests. “Stay the fuck away from me, lady!” one creep yelled, stumbling and tripping to rise and push his way out the door, followed quickly by his equally foul friend.

Nina rose and strolled toward them, but George’s attention had returned to a writhing, whining Dwight.

She nudged him with her toe, watching his rounded belly jiggle with distaste before stooping and eyeing him with contempt. “You disgusting pig. I hope you rot in jail for the rest of your filthy life!”

Nina grabbed her under her arms and whispered in her ear, “You. Go fucking angel the kid and his mother. Let us take care of this fucknob.”

When George