Sinful Protector (Roughshod Rollers MC 2)

“It’s fine,” I say dismissively. “Allison… She said he’s an idiot and a coward. He’ll bluster but he won’t do anything.”

Except he did. He gripped Allison hard enough that it must have bruised, and she had looked scared. That wasn’t nothing. Even if it was unusual, if he could do it once he could do it again.

I stamp down the wave of fury that rises in me. No. I’m staying out of it. I’m here to have a good night. He’s here to do whatever the fuck he wants. There’s no reason for either of us to even cross paths.

Yes, laying low and ignoring him is the best thing.

My resolve lasts until I hear Jesse’s voice rise above the din. I’m not sure if he’s just louder than everyone else, or if part of me was listening for him, but I can hear him clearly.

“That bitch wasn’t even good for anything!” he crows.

Every muscle in my body tenses. Ethan glances at me as my hand tightens on my mug, my teeth grinding. I know he’s talking about Allison.

“All she’d ever do is nag, nag, nag,” Jesse continues on, his words slurring. He’s had a lot to drink. “Don’t drink so much, get a real job, stop shouting at me, you’re an asshole… She was fucking annoying!”

It seems that his encounter with Allison last night had finally convinced him off getting back together with her. So he’s dealing with it by mouthing off in a bar. It’s exactly what Allison said he’d do; he’d curse and rant and rave and, ultimately, never do anything about it.

I start to relax. See, nothing to worry about.

“But, I’m telling you, that bitch is going to get what’s coming to her!” Jesse shouts, waving his mug so that alcohol sloshes over the edge. He slams the mug on the table, and his fist follows a second later. “Ha, she thinks she can say whatever the hell she feels like? She needs to fucking think again. I know where she lives!”

/>

What? Allison hadn’t seemed worried about Jesse coming after her, and I doubt she would have been foolish enough to tell Jesse where she was going. So how…

I pause. My blood runs cold. Was it really just a coincidence that Jesse was hanging around the corner shop only a few blocks away from Allison’s apartment? Has he followed her before now to find out where she’s living?

This is beyond not being able to accept that she left him. This is obsession.

If I’m right. I could be wrong. Maybe someone said to Jesse “hey, I saw your ex-girlfriend go into an apartment, does she live there now?” or something like that. Him knowing where she lives now doesn’t just have to mean that he stalked her home.

Still, the possibility is not pleasant.

And if he knows where she lives, couldn’t he…?

“And I tell you what I’m going to do!” Jesse says loudly, almost as if in answer. “I’m going to go to that bitch’s apartment and give her exactly what she deserves! No one looks down on me!”

I try to remember what Allison said. I try to remember that this man is all bluster and no bite, according to a woman who knows him far better than I do.

But, suddenly, I don’t care. I get abruptly to my feet, making my friends fall silent. There’s a red haze behind my eyes and my hands are clenched into fists.

“Kyle…” Grant says warningly.

I ignore him and stalk toward Jesse and his table. They’re all still foolishly laughing. None of them notice me until I’m right there, looming over them. Jesse looks up at me with a sneer.

“What the fuck do you…?”

He trails off. I see the moment recognition hits when his face drains of color. My fists shake at my sides. I’m so angry that I can’t think straight, but I still remember my promise to Grant. I won’t cause trouble.

“You!” Jesse says, jumping to his feet.

For a moment, I think he might take a swing at me, equal parts angry about me hitting him last night and terrified by how much bigger I am. There’s a snarl on his lips and his eyes are wild. I brace myself; I won’t hit him first, but I’m also going to defend myself.

Maybe he sees this in my eyes. He falters. And then, before I can say anything at all, he turns and flees.

“Woo, go Kyle!” I hear Ethan cheer from the bar. “You won that without a single hit!”

I’m not triumphant at all. My mind is whirling, leaping from thought to thought.