Chapter 35 Gabe
Gabe
By the time I squeal into the parking lot attached to the bar, I’ve decided I’m going to have to kill Taryn.
Well, save her first.
Kill her after.
Because she’s not supposed to be coming into town on her own. Hell, she’s not supposed to go out after dark on her own! And she damn well isn’t allowed to steal one of my bikes and ride away on it without fucking telling anyone.
I jerk the truck to a stop and jump out almost before the engine is turned off, my eyes on the bar.
It’s not a bad place, really, and I know the owners and bartenders here.
They’re decent people. They don’t even allow bad patrons.
But the fact that Taryn is in here on her own and evidently in some sort of trouble has my blood so hot it feels like I’m being scalded from the inside.
Which is what I get for taking my eyes off her for two fucking seconds.
I came back from the ridge high on her love, though, and floating around like a fucking lovesick puppy at what we’d just done.
I’ve been waiting years to be allowed to touch her like that, and the fact that she finally let me, and then actually opened up for me, had me seeing stars.
Literally. I went upstairs to my room, just to spend a minute trying to process what had happened, and the next thing I know I’m getting a phone call from the girl in question saying she’s in trouble.
And then it took me far too long to get here. It’s been seven minutes since she called and I’m going out of my mind with worry about what may have happened to her while I was navigating the still-snowy roads.
I rush toward the bar, hands flexed into fists and suddenly wondering why the hell I didn’t bring an axe with me—and whether I have one in the truck—but decide it’s too late for that.
I’ll just have to use fists for whatever I find inside.
God, I hope it’s just that she got a drink and realized she forgot to bring any money with her.
Or maybe she forgot her phone.
No, strike that. She called me on her phone.
The money, then. Maybe it’s just money.
I burst through the doors like I’m about to evacuate the place from a fire, knowing that I probably look both insane and possessed, which are maybe the same thing, and not giving a single fuck. My girl is in here, and she’s not only out after dark—which isn’t allowed—but in some sort of trouble.
“Taryn!” I shout, before even taking the time to look around.
Everyone in the bar jumps like I just shot a gun.
Shit. I’m never going to hear the end of this.
I look quickly through the room but there’s nothing to see out here. Benny is behind the bar cleaning up, a rag in one hand and a bottle in the other, and several people are sitting at tables with drinks in their hands. No one looks dangerous. They just look sad.
And Taryn isn’t here.
A sudden shriek from the back hallway has us all whirling in that direction, though, and I’m moving before anyone else so much as stands up. Because I know that voice. I’d know it anywhere, even if I was in a fucking coma.
Little Bird. She’s in the back hallway, and she’s struggling with someone.
The closer I get, the better I can hear it; crashing and banging and her cussing like it’s the only language she knows.
She screams again, and it pushes me to a run, because this definitely isn’t an I-forgot-money sort of situation.
I skid around the corner so hard I bang into the wall on the other side and shoot toward the noises.
Within seconds I can see through the dim lighting back here to make out what’s going on.
Taryn is pinned against the wall at the end of the hallway, her hands wrapped around the neck of the much larger man who is evidently attacking her.
He has his hands on her shoulders and is pushing at her, trying to get close enough to kiss her, but she’s doing one hell of a job keeping him at a distance.
As I watch, she jerks one knee up and does a very creditable job of trying to knee him in the balls.
I mean she misses, and it just pisses him off. But it was a strong attempt.
He rears back, furious, and actually lifts a hand like he’s going to slap her, but I get there first. I grab the hand he’s lifted and jerk it back, hearing a very satisfying crunch when something in his arm either disconnects or breaks.
I grab his other shoulder and jerk that, too, sending him straight to the floor.
Then I aim a couple of kicks right at his face, connecting twice before I adjust to kicking him in the stomach.
I don’t pause, and I don’t hold back. He was attacking my girl.
My girl. The one I just got back, and the one who’s wrapped her hands around my heart and made me feel something again for the first time in years.
Yeah, I’m angry at her for being in this place on her own and not telling me she left, but that doesn’t give this asshole any right to try to attack her.
I’ll kill him, and I don’t even care what that means for my future.
I kick him again and again until I register another voice shouting at me, a hand on my arm.
“Gabe, stop!” Taryn shouts. “It’s enough, Gabe! Enough!”
I stop immediately at her words, breathing hard and looking down at the guy. He’s in a crumpled heap, bent into fetal position as he tries to protect himself, and she’s right. It’s enough. God, I lost track of what I was doing and could have gone too far.
If she wasn’t here to stop me.
I grab her and tug her to me, the emotions suddenly far too big for me to hold. And then I swing right back to anger.
“What the fuck are you doing out here alone at night?” I ask, pushing her back and staring down at her. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Do you have everything? I’m taking you home.”
Some part of my mind knows that I sound even more insane now than I did when I slammed through the door of the bar screaming her name, but I don’t care.
I don’t actually need an answer to the questions I’m slingshotting at her because the answers don’t matter.
The only thing that matters is that I have her back; she’s whole and alive, and back in my hands. And that I’m taking her home.
I take her arm and guide her quickly through the bar, emotions still racing through my nervous system like they’re all trying to get to my brain first. As we pass Benny, I tell him sharply that there’s a guy in the hall who was attacking Taryn and that he’s in bad shape.
I add a quick side note that Benny should keep better control of his patrons and that I’ll be talking to him tomorrow about the fact that this was happening while he was casually cleaning the bar, and leave that to brew in his brain until tomorrow.
He’s in trouble, and he needs to know it.
The moment we’re outside I pick Taryn up and throw her over my shoulder so I can get to the truck more quickly. It’s cold out here and as usual, she didn’t wear enough clothes for the weather.
That’s fine. It just gives me one more thing to lecture her about on the ten-minute drive back to the house.
* * *
She gives me almost nothing on the drive home, barely responding to my repeated questions and statements, and by the time I pull into the driveway I’m nearly foaming at the mouth with anger.
Or desire.
Honestly, I can’t tell which is stronger. The thought that I could have lost her tonight, while probably an exaggeration, is so heavy in my mind that I can hardly stand it. I want to take her upstairs and tie her to my bed then post a guard outside my door so she can’t escape.
And then I want to lay claim to her. Spread her open and fuck her deep and hard until she says she’ll never run again.
Somewhere in there, I’m sure there’s some note of having been abandoned by two mothers and needing someone to promise to stay with me. Somewhere, there’s damage I’ve never even considered.
But I’m not considering it right now. My cock is hard and aching and I’m too busy thinking about what I want to do to Taryn.
She’s already out of the truck when I get to her side but I’m not going to let her walk on her own. I throw her over my shoulder again, gratified when she doesn’t even fight me this time, and start walking toward the house.
“My God, girl, what am I going to do with you? The last time I saw you, you were underneath me and I had my cock buried in you. I got you back to the house and thought you’d go to your room and go to sleep. Be a good girl for once in your life.”
Now she does start squirming, and I take a knee to the sternum on the way up the stairs. I grunt in pain but don’t put her down–—despite the curses she’s hurling my way–—and throw the door open.
“How the fuck did you get into the back hallway at Penny’s, fighting off a guy twice as big as you? Do you have any idea what could have happened if I didn’t come get you?”
“I know exactly what would have happened, you asshole. Why the fuck do you think I called you?” she grunts.
She’s now poking her fingers into my back, aiming right for the ticklish spots between my ribs, the little minx.
I hike her up further, hoping to decrease her reach, and start climbing the stairs toward the second floor. It’s the middle of the night, thank God, and my father is already in his room asleep. That won’t last if she keeps shouting, though, so I shake her a bit.
“Enough, Little Bird. Shut your mouth unless you want a lecture from my father as well,” I murmur.
She shuts up like I knew she would, and I take the stairs two at a time in my hurry to get upstairs. Neither of us wants my father awake right now. She doesn’t want another lecture, and I...
I don’t want him getting up and ruining anything else.
The old man is so cranky lately I can hardly stand to be around him, and I’ve seen how he treats Taryn.
He looks at her like she has no right to be here and acts like he doesn’t even know who she is anymore.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he wants her to leave.