Adley steps forward, unsteady on his feet, looking like he’s taken a few more hits since I landed the first punch.

“Yo. Pretty boy. Maybe you want to ask your bartender that question instead.” He lifts his fingers to his already-swelling eye for emphasis, then juts his chin in my direction.

Jake whips his head around to see who’s to blame. His eyes double in size when they land on me. He looks back at Adley, then turns to me again, scanning up and down as he finally notices the way I’m holding Maddie Wheeler in my arms.

I squeeze her to me on instinct, unsure if it’s for her comfort or mine, then step forward and offer a hand up to Jake to help him off the bar.

“That guy’s name is Andrew Adley. He beat the shit out of Fielding last week, then threatened to come after Maddie when she stopped him. He was touching her and saying inappropriate things just now. He threatened her and said she needed to pay up with pussy. I need him gone if you expect me to work the rest of this shift.”

Jake sucks in a sharp breath at my not-so-subtle ultimatum, running his hand through his hair over and over. “Fuckin’ Maddie,” he mutters, turning away from me and lifting his bullhorn to speak.

Tension coils in my gut as I worry about being so candid with Jake. But he knows me. He trusts me. I would never pull shit over on him, and I have to believe he’ll take my word as truth, regardless of how he feels about Maddie.

“If your name is Andrew Adley and/or you’re a sexual predator, get out of my bar right fucking now,” he declares through the bullhorn. “And if your drink was just spilled, or you got spilled on, come up here and see me so I can get you taken care of.” The bar erupts in cheers, and people eagerly line up where Jake’s standing.

Andrew doesn’t take the hint.

“Hey. Hey! Pretty boy!” He’s trying his hardest to get Jake’s attention. “I could fucking sue you for defamation for calling me a sexual predator!”

Maddie brushes past me before I can stop her, and I stalk after her as she makes her way toward Adley.

“He didn’t call you a sexual predator.” She places both hands on her hips and stands tall, facing off with Andrew from across the bar. “He said if your name’s Andrew Adley and/or you’re a sexual predator. Not his fault you happen to identify with the title.” She shrugs casually as I come to stand by her side.

“Oh, and Andrew?” she adds, leaning forward in a way that makes both him and I lurch closer to hear her. “I’m sure someone’s got it on video, just in case we need proof.”

That’s my fucking girl.