Miss Jackson {b.u.}

{75}

"You're a pretty thing," the man began, "what's your name?"

I rolled my eyes. A drink rested in my hand as I gave him a look, "back up. I'm married."

The man chuckled and set his drink down, "what's your husband gonna do? Knock me 'til im dead?"

I looked at Brendon, who was sitting a little bit behind me. I raised an eyebrow at him. He leaned back in the chair, arms resting along the arm of the chair, a grim stare placed onto the man, "it's cool. Don't panic, darlin'."

I watched as he rose from the chair. His hand was clawed over the top of his glass and he walked toward the man with his chest puffed out and he was flexing his muscles. Brendon stepped in front of me, but I peeked behind him, "as her husband, there's a lot of things I could do," Brendon began and hung his head down low, "you want to see what she looks like underneath that, right?"

The man chuckled and shook his head, "why are you standin' in front of me like you're going to do somethin'?"

Brendon set his drink down on the table beside us. He didn't set it down, he slammed it onto the table. When Brendon gets silent, that's when you know he's heated, "i didn't get a fucking answer to my question and I don't like my important questions unanswered."

"Yeah. I want to see what's underneath that little black and silky-"

Brendon chuckled, for just a moment. That was before he grabbed the man by his shirt, "you wanna see what's under her dress!? I'll fucking show you what's under her dress-"

Brendon cocked his closed fist back, but I stopped him, looking down at the man, "I know now why I recognize you and that perfect body, Joanne."

I furrowed my eyebrows and Brendon looked at me, begging me with his eyes to let me let him do damage, "that hooker in high school? Yeah...then, forget about knowing what you look like underneath because I already fucking know."

I let go of Brendons arm. My face went emotionless and I nodded my head at Brendon, "do whatever you want, baby. He's all yours."

I turned and walked away. I grabbed my drink as I began walking to the exit. Taking one big sip and leaving it on an empty table. I shoved through the mass crowding of people. The exit was right there.

When I pushed the door open, the warm summer night breeze blew against my skin. I leaned against the wall. I didn't know how long Brendon would take and I didn't mind. Nobody—and I mean, nobody, is going to talk about my past out in the open like that. Brendon wouldn't let someone talk about me like that. He'll let it go if the person only said one thing, but once they keep going, Brendon loses it.

I turned my body when the exit door swung open. Brendon was being dragged out of the club by the security guards, but he quickly pulled his arms away, "get the fuck off me, man. Im fuckin' out of the building! Are you fuckin' blind?!"

The security guards didn't utter a word. They walked back inside an Brendon watched, furiously. I waited for him to turn back to me, but he didn't. Brendon looked down at his bloodied knuckles and shook his hands out, "are you okay now?"

Brendon looked over at me and nodded his head in dissatisfaction, "still mad."

I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms, "how bad?"

"It wasn't enough," Brendon began and took a sharp inhale, "i wanted to kill him, Joanne."

I wasn't sure what to say. I walked up to him, my heels clicking against the ground. I put my hand against his cheek and he put his hand over mine, "you dont have to worry about it anymor-"