8. Travis
TRAVIS
L ance and his new boyfriend, Julian, stopped by at closing time on Saturday to thank Beau for the work he’d done on Julian’s Corvette.
I liked Julian, and I enjoyed chatting with them, but I kept being distracted by Dax.
Whenever he was close by, I couldn’t keep my eyes off him.
As Lance and Julian drove away, I gave into my urge and let myself look my fill while Dax talked to Beau.
When Dax glanced over and noticed me, heat filled my face.
I spun around and began walking to the garage, wishing I could make myself invisible.
I was about halfway to the door and fighting the urge to run when Dax called, “Hey, Travis!”
I looked behind me and saw him jogging to catch up with me. I told myself not to get too excited. He’d been keeping his distance again. Why would that change now?
“What do you need, Dax?”
“I was just wondering if you’d help me change the oil in my motorcycle. It’s nice to have someone to talk to while I do it. Unless you have other plans. I assumed you’d be staying here since you’re living here now.”
“I’d love that.” The words came out automatically.
And really, what other answer could I give.
I didn’t think I’d ever have the strength to say no to a chance to spend time with him.
I’d caught him watching me several times.
He tried to play it off, but I’d started to wonder if he was as aware of me as I was of him.
That made absolutely no sense, though. Dax could have whoever he wanted.
Why would he want someone as fucked up as I was?
Maybe because he’s fucked up too?
I knew what he did, and no sane person could torture people on a regular basis without it affecting them, but he seemed so together, so in control. I longed for him to take charge of me.
But if he wanted that too, why had he stayed away from me for so long? Did he just feel sorry for me? Did he think I was lonely?
“Don’t feel obligated to ask me. I’m fine on my own.” I turned toward the garage and started walking again.
“Travis.” He said my name in such a serious tone that I stopped and looked at him. “I want your help.”
The way he said the words in a low, rich voice, he might as well have said I want you . My cock reacted, and I hoped to hell Dax wouldn’t notice. Was there any chance I could be close to him and not make a fool of myself?
“Okay, so let’s… um… get your bike.”
I opened the bay door so he could pull it inside.
We didn’t say much as he wiped down the engine around the oil filter, and I grabbed a drain pan, a funnel, and a wrench.
His hand brushed mine as he reached for the wrench to loosen the drain plug. I felt the tingles all the way down my spine. When Dax leaned over me, I drew in his scent. How could he work here all day and still smell so damn good?
As the oil drained into the pan, I let my gaze linger over his body, the defined muscles of his arms, the strong line of his jaw, his hands that looked so damn powerful. What would it feel like for him to hold me down as he fucked me?
Dear God. I needed to stop. My cock was half-hard, and if he noticed, I might die right there on the spot. It had been so damn long since I’d been with a man, and I’d never been with a man like Dax, a big, strong, confident, beast of a man.
He turned and looked at me, making me realize he’d asked me something while I was lost in my fantasy.
“What did you say?”
He didn’t answer. He just looked at me like a predator studying his prey. He was scary as hell, but I wanted him to scare me. I wanted the thrill of it, and I knew no matter how fierce he was, he also knew how to be gentle.
“I asked you to hand me a quart of oil.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
He smiled. “No problem.”
I reached for the oil on the counter behind me and gave it to him.
“Thanks.”
It was clear he didn’t really need help, so why had he asked me? Did he have a reason why he thought he needed to keep a close eye on me?
But if that was it, why would he have let me walk away first?
I watched Dax as he tipped the oil can, not the funnel, but a noise drew my attention. At first, I dismissed it as someone pulling a car around to the back. Then I realized everyone else had left.
“What was that?”
Dax froze. We were both silent. The air around us seemed to hum, then I heard a car door slam. “It’s probably just someone who didn’t realized we’re closed.”
Dax shook his head. “Beau never forgets to arm the gate after hours.” He reached for his gun. “Have you got a weapon?”
I shook my head. He pulled another gun from his ankle holster and handed it to me. “Stay here, and I’ll check it out.”
“Dax—”
He was already moving toward the bay door. I prayed Beau had just been careless, but I knew better. We’d lived too much of our lives under threat from someone or something for him to ever let his guard down, and it wasn’t like Corbin was going to be lax about security either.
I followed Dax to the door. He turned and scowled at me, motioning for me to go back.
I didn’t retreat, but I stayed where I was, giving him a chance to look out and survey the yard. I intended to have his back. That was nonnegotiable.
He glanced back at me, rolled his eyes, then motioned me closer.
Despite the danger, I shivered as he whispered against my ear.
“Look out there and tell me if you recognize the guy.” He looked once more as if to confirm the man was still visible.
When he spoke again, his lips touched my ear, and the room spun around me. “He’s standing by his car in the lot.”
Surely if it was one of LePlatt’s henchmen, he wouldn’t be so obvious, would he?
Not unless he was that damn confident he could get to me.
Did he think I’d just willingly go with him?
No way in hell was that happening. If I left with him, I wasn’t coming back, no matter what he might say.
I doubted even the Theriots would find my body.
I tried to move around Dax, but he forced me to stay against the wall. He covered me as I looked out. When I saw the man by the car, I sucked in my breath.
“I take it you do know him,” Dax said.
I nodded, then rose on tiptoes so I could speak close to Dax’s ear. He pulled me closer, nearly lifting me off my feet. “It’s Jean-Charles. He works for LePlatt.”
“Fuck.” Dax forgot to muffle the word, but I doubted Jean-Charles could hear us from where he was unless he was superhuman. Of course, he sure as hell seemed to think he was.
Dax pulled out his phone and typed something quickly. “I just alerted the guy we have watching the place. I’m going to make Jean-Charles regret daring to show up here.”
As I kept watching him, Jean-Charles brought his fingers to his mouth and whistled loudly. “Travis!” he called. “I know you’re back there. It’s been too long since we’ve had a chat. Come out and talk to me.”
Did the bastard actually think I was that stupid? Possibly. I’d played dumb plenty of times to keep from being treated even worse than I was.
“How useful would this asshole be as a prisoner?” Dax asked. When I saw his expression as he looked at Jean-Charles, I understood why Corbin said everyone was scared of him.
“He’d be very useful, but you should kill him before he sees you. He’s too dangerous.”
Dax kissed the top of my head. “Don’t worry. I got this.”
I’d seen Jean-Charles mow down three boys who couldn’t have been more than sixteen, then have a business meeting while their bodies lay there.
I’d seen him chop a man’s head off, wipe his knife on the man’s clothes, sheathe it, and go back to a cocktail party to dance with the guy’s wife.
When she’d asked if he’d seen her husband, he just shrugged.
“Travis,” Jean-Charles called again. “It’s time to come out. I don’t have all night.”
“Stay put,” Dax said. “I’m going to bag this bastard.”
I let Dax think I would stay behind like he told me, but once he started moving around the building hoping to surprise Jean-Charles, I followed him.
I knew he’d eventually hear me, but I kept far enough back not to distract him.
I wanted to have his back, but I didn’t want to divert his attention.
I had no doubt Dax was fucking deadly. From what I’d heard, the Theriots learned how to shoot as soon as they could walk, and I’d seen Dax in action years ago.
Even then he was scarily precise, but unlike Jean-Charles, Dax had a soul, and that put Dax at a disadvantage.
Dax managed to move so quietly Jean-Charles didn’t notice him.
Pride was the man’s greatest weakness. He probably didn’t think anyone could sneak up on him.
If Dax had a sniper rifle, the fucker might already be dead, but I was sure Dax hadn’t taken my advice about killing him.
He wanted to get damn close before he took a shot.
Wounding and taking a man prisoner was a lot trickier than killing him.
Dax stilled. I moved a few steps closer, but he didn’t turn around.
“Hey asshole!” Dax called.
Jean-Charles turned his way, weapon ready to fire, but Dax was faster. He shot Jean-Charles in his right arm, and Jean-Charles dropped his gun. As Dax rushed him, he used his good arm to pull out a knife.
Dax plowed into him, knocking him to the ground.
I raised my gun, but there was no way for me to be sure I wouldn’t hit Dax by mistake, not with them grappling like they were.
Dax shoved Jean-Charles to the ground and gripped his knife arm.
He slammed Jean-Charles’s arm into the ground again and again.
Dax was absolutely brutal. Jean-Charles wasn’t a small man, and I knew he was strong as shit, but he was clearly no match for Dax.
Once he lost his grip on the knife, Dax used a solid punch to his jaw to knock him out. Dax slammed his fist into the ground as if he needed to hit Jean-Charles again but was afraid he’d kill him. I had no doubt he could snap the man’s neck with little effort.