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And then Tyler turned his eyes on me.
12
Tyler
White-hot rage slowly dissipated from my body as I turned to face Henrietta. The sight of that bastard with his hands all over her—I could have fucking killed him. It took all I had to let him leave the bar, sprinting away like the worthless son of a bitch he was.
My hands were still shaking as I approached her, my eyes running up and down her body for any hint of injury. I palmed her shoulders, taking an inventory of her face, her eyes. “Are you okay?” I asked, terrified she’d been hurt in some way before I got here.
She nodded slowly, as if she wasn't quite sure. “How did you know to come?”
Had he drugged her? I searched her eyes, but they seemed clear, as usual. “You texted me.”
She shook her head. “I—I meant to text my friends for a ride.” She left me, going to her purse at the table and looking through her phone. A stricken look crossed her face. “God, Tyler I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your evening.”
Ruin my evening? She’d been assaulted and she was worried about my Friday night? “Do you remember what I said earlier? If you ever need anything, that means a tire change, a rescue driver, a fucking pack of gum, you call me, okay?”
She nodded slowly again, and then her lips trembled. “I’m just so glad you came,” she said, her voice cracking on the last word.
Without thinking, I took her in my arms, holding her as she shook with tears or adrenaline or maybe a mixture of both. I didn't know. I just knew that I wanted to keep her close. Keep her safe. She deserved so much better than this.
When her tears slowed, I asked, “Do you want me to take you home?”
“Not like this,” she said, wiping tears from her cheeks. “My mom and grandma were so excited for me to go on this date. And I don't want to disappoint them.”
The fact that she was thinking about everyone else at a time like this just showed how selfless she really was. I got pissed all over again at this guy who hadn’t seen what he had right in front of him.
“Where do you want to go?” I asked. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”
She pushed her lips thoughtfully to the side. “I have an idea.”
I walked her to my truck, keeping my arm around her shoulders to make me feel better about her safety. At least that’s what I told myself. Not that it felt good to have her tucked under my arm, her warmth against my side.
I opened the door for her and held her hand as she got inside. Once she was securely in, I grabbed the belt and reached around her to buckle her in.
She started to protest, but I paused. “Let me have this,” I breathed. “I need to know you’re safe.”
She nodded. The belt latched in place, and I let my hands linger for a second. Fuck, seeing her like that, shoving that guy away and the laugh on that sick fuck’s face... it had broken something in me.
I pulled my hand away and walked to my side of the truck, my eyes scanning the parking lot for any type of danger. Seeing none, I got in and locked the door.
She looked over at me, a frown pulling at her lips. “You must think I'm pathetic.”
“Why would I think that?” I asked, genuinely confused. I thought a lot of things about this girl—more than I should—and none of them included the word pathetic.
“You're always rescuing me.”
“What’s pathetic is how much I want to,” I admitted. Then I cleared my throat. “Where’s this place you want to go?”
She tapped an address into my phone. Collie’s Bar. It wasn’t too far away from the apartments and only about twenty minutes from here. We drove in silence until we reached a building with a glowing green sign with a black and white border collie.
The brightly lit parking lot immediately made me feel less sketchy than that seedy back-alley bar.
I parked and walked to her side, opening the door for her. Although I didn’t have my arm around her this time, I walked close to her, determined to help her feel safe.
As we reached the door, she warned, “It's going to be a little loud in here.”
I grinned. “How old do you think I am?”