He lowered his voice to keep anyone else from hearing him. "I told you I was going to deal with Holland one way or another. I did. He's being a p***y and pressing charges." This proclamation came like he was delivering the weather.
My hands found my hips. "What did you do?" My eyes narrowed, and I stared him down.
"I can assure you he'll never touch another woman again." He eyed me like I should understand what that meant. He was speaking in half-thoughts, cryptically. I needed a diagram drawn out, a detailed outline with pictures.
"What did you do?" I asked again, my voice laced with irritation, verging on anger. "Are you going to jail for this?"
"If I do, I won't be in long. It's a misdemeanor. I just roughed him up a bit."
The smile he gave me should have eased my panic, but the
