Page 38 of It’s Always Been You (Always #1)
It appeared to be a violent lovers’ spat. Caitlin was about to yell at Travis to stop the car, but it seemed he was compelled to do so anyway when they saw the mean-looking Latino guy grab the woman by her throat and slam her against the car.
The woman looked familiar, but she wasn’t any of the club women who ganged up on her at Foster Bar.
She heard Travis muttering under his breath.
He was probably uncomfortable about getting involved in a domestic dispute, but Caitlin was still confused with the indecision on his face, because Travis didn’t strike her as a man who would let a woman face abuse, physically or verbally.
Travis parked their Suburban right behind a vintage Chevy Impala. The man was of medium height and wearing a wife-beater shirt that covered deep brown skin. He was almost the same height as the woman, but clearly had the advantage of pure viciousness.
“Hey!” Travis shouted as he slammed out the car. “Let her go.”
The guy slackened his grip on the woman and glared at Travis. “Mind your own fucking business, hombre. ”
Yep, definitely from South America or Mexico.
“Travis . . . oh, thank God!” the woman cried.
The guy stilled, so did Caitlin as a strange sensation gripped her heart.
“You know this guy, Bella?”
Bella? This was Duke’s sister, the woman that hit on Travis.
The guy let go of Bella and advanced toward Travis. He immediately poked Travis on the chest while he said, “You fucking my woman, huh? Your bitch over there not enough?”
Caitlin wanted to cover her ears because his words burned through her brain. She gasped when Travis somehow managed to spin the guy around and shove him on the back of the Impala with the guy’s arms twisted behind his back. The angle of the limb was positioned in a way that discouraged resistance.
Travis leaned over the man and said, “Don’t you dare call my wife a bitch. You don’t even deserve to kiss her feet. And maybe if you were man enough to satisfy your woman here, she wouldn’t have to find someone else. I never touched Bella. I never will.”
He shoved away from the guy, releasing him. “Now get the fuck out of here.”
The man’s face mottled with rage. He stomped to the driver’s side of the Impala and glared at Travis. “This is not over! You’re lucky I don’t have my gun, or I would shoot you . . .” His eyes drifted to Caitlin. “But not before I slit the throat of your bitch in front of you.”
Travis moved to go after him, but the man scrambled into his car and burned rubber, skidding away from the side of the road.
Her husband stood there, hands clenched into fists. Not looking at Bella, he strode back to the Suburban. “Get in the car.”
The tension rolling off Travis was palpable as he got into the driver’s seat .
“Travis,” Caitlin began, but Bella got into the backseat and stopped whatever she was about to say. “Are you all right?” Caitlin forced herself to ask the other woman.
“I’m fine,” Bella replied. Travis made curt introductions after which the woman said in a sweeter, breathless voice, “Thanks for saving me.”
Caitlin was staring straight ahead, but she imagined Bella had said those words with an accompanying flutter of lashes.
“Thank Caitlin. She convinced me to stop.”
That shut the bitch up , Caitlin thought snidely. They rode in silence until they reached the outskirts of town.
“Where do you want me to drop you off?” Travis asked.
“The clubhouse. It’s ten minutes on the other side of Iron Ridge.”
“I have an appointment with a masseuse at the B we keep to Iron Ridge. We do not move into each other’s territory,” Crane answered.
“Oh, come on, Crane. What happened between me and Bella is water under the bridge.”
“You took advantage of my daughter.”
“She was nineteen, more than the age of consent. She wanted a good fuck—”
It wasn’t Marko’s lucky day, because Crane slammed him against the side of a parked vehicle.
The sheriff, a portly man of around fifty, huffed heavily and tried to pull Crane off Marko. Caitlin saw the flash of a gun from one of Marko’s goons.