My Brother's Forbidden Touch::Ch-18

"It's not like I do book signings or release parties. As far as I know, it's just me at home all day, and until just now, I've never actually met anyone who read one of my books, except my publisher and editors."

"With millions of fans all over the world?"

"I'm sure that was an exaggeration, and Heather didn't say 'all over the world.'"

I would have to take that last part back at some point, even though it was technically true. Heather didn't say "all over the world," but I knew my books were translated into Spanish, German, and French, both standard books and Braille.

I heard Dan's chair scrape the floor as it moved away from the table. Panic rose in my chest at the thought that he might be angry enough to leave me there.

I felt him next to me a second later though. I hoped it was him. Then his warm hand rested on the bare skin of my back across my shoulder blades and his soft lips touched mine in a light kiss.

"I have to use the restroom before the food gets here. Will you be okay?"

"I will be now," I whispered, my lips brushing his while a sparkler storm started again in my eyes.

####

As I made my way across the dining room headed for the restroom, I might have still shaken my head in denial of what I'd just learned even if my sister could see me.

Raven Tipton is an author.

I came up with an excuse for not knowing that -- she writes childrens' books -- just as I was about to make the turn to go into the hallway where the restrooms were located.

The male voice that drowned out the babble of conversations in the dining room rooted my feet in place.

"There's a fucking dog in here!"

I spun around, expecting to need to search for the source of the drunken yell. That wasn't necessary.

A stout man, dressed in a dark suit, his tie loosened at his throat, pointed at the table where Raven sat, and lumbered slowly in her direction.

I knew immediately that even at his slow, unsteady gait, he would reach my sister long before I could cover the distance, even at a sprint and without the tables, chairs, and people between us.

"Hey! Stop!" I yelled as I pushed myself to a sprint, and planned my route to Raven.

"Don't bite him, Boston," I exhaled with each breath.

I had no idea how Boston would react to this situation. As far as I knew, he had never been assaulted by a drunk person who intended to remove him by force from Raven's side.

I wondered if he had been trained for this.

"I'm gonna drag that mutt outta here!" the drunk bellowed.

I wasn't going to be able to stop him. He was already starting to reach under the table and I was only half-way there.

"Stop!" I screamed without slowing.

Raven's face was pale, and her hands were under the table in front of her. Her mouth was open like she was screaming, but the room seemed silent around me.

Suddenly a wad of brown curls bounced off the drunk's shoulder, and he staggered sideways. He almost went down, but stumbled upright as the curls rose from below him, and he pushed them.

The girl, I didn't remember her name at that second, fell backwards, half on the table, and half against Raven.

Skinny legs and arms flailed, then coalesced onto the top of the table. A hand grabbed Raven's arm as she teetered and toppled, then steadied her upright as her chair slid from under her and Raven dropped straight to the floor and the chair clattered away from her.

The bundle of curls raised her other hand, still holding Raven upright with an arm behind her, and something sprayed out of her fingertips and splattered against the drunk's face.

I was still a few yards away, and the man's scream of anguish echoed around me as he dropped to his knees and clawed at his face.

I dashed past him to get to Raven. My eyes caught a snapshot of the drunk and the girl as I passed. He was mashing his fists into his eyes. His face glowed almost beet red and his mouth gaped open with his sobs.

Heather stood over him. Her face grimaced and her lips stretched across her teeth in a scream as she continued to pelt his face with liquid from her fingertips.

She was in total control of that, so I could concentrate on Raven.

"Raven! Are you hurt?" I desperately asked as I slid to a stop on my knees in front of my sister.

She was sitting upright on the floor, her legs spread in front of her with one knee slightly bent. Boston lay across her lap with his chin on her raised thigh, and Raven's fingers gripped handfuls of his fur at his neck.

Boston turned his head and bared his teeth at me for a split second then relaxed and returned his chin to her leg.

"Danny? What's happening?"

"Raven, god, are you hurt?" I insisted.

She looked terrified.

"I don't think so, Danny. What's going on?"

She released Boston's fur and reached for me.

"I'll be right back. I have to take care of that man," I told her as I stood.

"No Danny! Please, you promised!"

I quickly scanned the nearby people.

"You!" I shouted and pointed at a stunned waitress standing at the next table.

Her eyes stretched and her mouth dropped open, but she met my eyes.

"Get a pitcher of milk and pour it on the asshole's face."

I turned my attention to Heather and the drunk.

He was still wailing, now supine on the floor, and rubbing hard at his eyes.

Heather was a few feet away from him, struggling to break free of arms around her waist holding her back. Tears streamed down her face and her eyes were rimmed in red.

The man holding her was probably in his mid-forties, and the woman beside him was about the same age, but the spitting image of Heather. She was talking desperately into her phone.

I took a few steps toward Heather and the couple who were obviously her parents.

"Are you calling 9-1-1?" I asked. The woman met my eyes and nodded.

"What should I do with this?" a voice asked behind me, so I turned.

The waitress was there with milk. I took it from her.

"Get another pitcher and pour it on his face," I told her with a nod at the drunk, then I turned back to Heather.

"Heather, you were too close. You got some in your eyes. Lie down."

She visibly relaxed and reached for her eyes with her hands.

"No! Don't touch anything with your hands."

"Are you her dad?" I asked the man as I reached the pitcher of milk toward him.

"I am," he nodded.

"Get her to lie down, then slowly pour this on her eyes and face. It'll help neutralize the pepper spray. Don't let her touch her face, and get somebody to bring you dishwashing liquid to wash her hands."

He nodded, so I went back to Raven.

"Raven, are you okay?"

I could tell she was still scared, but she broke into a huge smile.

"My hero," she cooed.

"Can we get you off the floor?"

"I think so. I don't think I'm hurt."

She scrubbed around Boston's ears and quietly asked him if he was hurt. He licked her face and his tail started wagging.

"I'm okay, Boston," she murmured and pushed against his shoulders lightly.