He pauses, narrowing his eyes, and then, when he sees what’s going on, he sprints over.
“You better let me go,” I whisper, more in concern for this juiced-up asshole now, not that he deserves it. “Right now.”
He yells wordlessly when Angelo grabs his shoulder and wrenches hard, whirling him around. The guy lets me go and takes a step back, hands raised. “Do yourself a favor, pal,” he warns Angelo. “Walk the f**k away.”
Angelo smirks, but his dark eyes are filled with anger. “You have no idea what you just did,” he says calmly, except for a small tremor toward the end, like he’s trying hard to rein in his anger. He gestures at me. “You don’t put your hands on her. Ever.”
The bodybuilder narrows his eyes. Maybe his time in prison gave him the ability to sense when somebody is bluffing, b
