Page 3 of Tice’s Kind of Trouble (Obsessive Protectors #2)

THREE

Tice

Kane Mathews is double-timing across the street, the door to his rented SUV open, when he realizes I’ve got his sister in my arms.

“Jesus, what happened?”

“I’ve got her.” I shove him out of the way with one hand as I continue to my truck, which is blocking everything.

Kane pivots and roars up next to me, a freight train of anger. “Did someone in there hurt her?”

Doesn’t matter that the guy didn’t touch her. He was too close to her.

“A guy was harassing her. Blue shirt. Stupid haircut. Watch him until the cops arrive.”

Kane’s head swivels, his dead-eye stare locking on the guy, something a lot like a growl coming from his chest. “Did he lay his goddamned hands on her?”

“He tried to buy me a cup of tea,” Bethany interrupts, her voice thick with tears. “It’s probably okay, but Tice reminded me he could be a bad… guy…”

When she chokes on her words, I cup her face to my chest. “Shhh. Let’s get you out of here, babe.”

Eagle, Kane’s girl, opens my passenger door, making way for me to lower Bethany into the seat. In my truck where I can keep her safe.

Eagle steps back, twisting her fingers. She has her lips parted like she wants to say something, but isn’t sure how to navigate my black mood.

After buckling Bethany in, I check the seatbelt’s tension. “I’m taking her home with me. Here’s Kane’s phone.”

Eagle blinks, shocked, takes the phone quickly. “Oh. Um. Yikes. I’ll tell Kane.”

The other SEAL is already inside the coffee shop, his shoulders bunched as he jams an angry finger into the other man’s face.

I grip Eagle’s shoulder to make my point. “Keep your boyfriend on a leash. I don’t want him going to jail again—he’s gonna have to start that contract while I deal with whoever broke into his sister’s house.”

“But Kane will want?—”

“Kane’s got you to take care of, sweetheart. Plus, he won’t be… objective about this situation.”

She glances at Bethany, who’s crying quietly into her cupped hands. “Are you sure you’re objective?”

“No.”

I close the truck door and storm to the driver’s side.

Eagle’s still standing there, looking rattled, when I back over the crushed planter, my hands like two vises on the steering wheel.

Someone scared Bethany, and they’re going to pay. Big time.

My abs are twisted up hard as rocks, all the blood in my body pumping to a war march.

I’m not objective.

But no one will be more effective than I will.

Not after the way we locked onto each other inside that coffee shop.

Bethany needs a protector?—

And she just fucking got one.