Chapter 20
Jersey
Thanks to the information Casper relayed to me, I don't have to wait outside of Smokin' Gunslingers very long.
The western-themed dinner-and-a-show business has several performances a night, and Casper somehow discovered that Scott Wilson always leaves before the second and third shows. This put his appearance at Catalyst right around the same time Caitlyn has been starting her scene. He's a creature of habit, and that's one thing he has going for him right now because it limits my time away from Caitlyn.
Watching him step outside of the building without so much as the need to look around makes me want to approach him and ram his head into the side of the wall. Driving by last night left Caitlyn looking every which way as she took a step out onto her front porch when she was leaving her house to go to her appointment with Eli earlier. I know she's fearful, and I think that even if I wiped this man's existence from the face of the earth and proved that he could never hurt her, she'd still be afraid, and for good reason, I guess.
Women are always in danger of becoming victims. They're seen by most as the weaker sex, someone who could readily be overpowered by someone who wants to hurt them.
I hate that I sometimes see women in the same light, but instead of wanting to exert my power, I want to protect them. The ones who deserve protection anyway.
I grin when I see Scott Wilson sporting a black eye from the hit he took last night. The only thing that would make it better is if I had centered my punch a little better and broken his nose. That way, he'd have two black eyes.
Inwardly, I wonder what he told his staff when he got to work today to explain away his injury. Hell, even better, I wonder what he told his wife last night when he got home.
The movement of my feet, which carry me out of the shadows, draws his attention, but he doesn't look concerned until the streetlamp lights my face.
"The fuck do you want, asshole?" he asks with more bravado than a man should, considering our size difference.
I'd be a fool to think that his smaller stature would prevent him from hurting a woman like Caitlyn.
"Heading to Catalyst, Scott?" I ask, leaning against his car door so he can't enter it.
Casper was very thorough with this man's information. I know where he lives, where he works, what he drives, and I even know the address of the apartment he keeps in town where he takes the women he doesn't want his wife to know about.
His eyes narrow at the fact that I know his first name.
"What's it to you?"
"What would Iris think about you spending all your time at a sex club?"
"Who the fuck are you?" he asks, taking a half step forward but cowering back some when I stand to my full height .
"What about Scott Jr. or Dean?" I continue, letting him know that I know much more than just his first name.
"What do you want?" he snaps, his voice a little less sure now.
"I want you to stay the fuck away from my girl," I growl, unwilling to give this piece of shit her name.
He's all too aware of exactly who I'm speaking about.
"Your whore you mean?"
I inch closer to the piece of shit, and instant regret fills his eyes. But instead of changing positions on the matter, the idiot doubles down.
"What kind of man lets his woman get strapped to a cross while others touch her?"
"The kind that's going to pound you into the fucking ground if you so much as make a reference to her one more time."
He opens his mouth but thinks better of it.
"One more glance in her direction, one more trip past her house, and I'm coming for you, asshole," I threaten as I get within an inch of his face. "And believe me when I say, no one will find your fucking body."
He looks well and truly terrified when I step back, so I consider my threat received before walking back to my motorcycle.
My skin is still heated, still on fire, both from the confrontation with Scott Wilson and with the time I spent with Caitlyn in the kitchen this morning.
The ride back to the cabin takes longer than I feel it should, but traffic is at a fucking crawl through the main stretch of town. Unlike a lot of other places in the country, Tennessee seems to be one way in and one way out as the roads follow the curves of the mountainsides.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I pull into the driveway and see her car still there .
My threats to Scott mean nothing. If I've learned anything about men with obsessions, even the threat of death doesn't usually keep them away. I have no doubt tonight wasn't the last time I'd have a run-in with the man, but knowing she's safe at this moment is enough that I can pull in a full breath of air.
We didn't talk much after the kitchen sex. I managed to take a step back and pull the used condom from my dick without falling on my ass. As I lifted my eyes from the trash can, it was just in time to watch her bend to grab her clothes and scurry out of the kitchen.
"You coming with us?" Lark asks as he steps out on the front porch before I can make it to the door.
"Where are we going?" I ask, knowing better than to volunteer for anything before I get the details.
"Jericho, Aspen, Eli, the doc, and that strange-looking dog are heading toward the indoor dog park. Hemlock asked for some backup. Seems it's a little more crowded tonight than he anticipated," my teammate explains.
I turn on my heels, following him right back off the porch. I regret leaving Scott alone in his parking lot. What if he somehow knows that Caitlyn isn't at the club tonight but instead is at some fucking dog park?
I climb into the passenger side of the SUV parked out front, wishing a little too late as Lark gets in the driver's seat and pulls out of the parking lot that I had taken my own vehicle.
The drive to the indoor dog park is just as slow because of traffic as it was to get back to the cabin earlier .
Lark rambles on about the job he was working recently, and it makes me wonder just how free so many of the guys are. It's a blessing that they've never really been touched by the same brand of trauma I've been through. I wouldn't wish my pain on anyone, but at the same time, they could be a little more introspective and a little less fucking talkative.
"Do you just like to hear your own voice?" I grumble as we pull up to what seems like the hundredth fucking red light.
"Have you heard me sing?" the man asks with a wide grin, his attention still on the traffic in front of him. "It's like angels on earth."
"Vanity is a sin," I mumble.
"Good thing I don't believe in God then, huh?"
I snap my eyes in his direction. I'm not a very religious person, but it isn't often that someone will just come out and admit they don't conform to some sort of religious norm.
"I'm not going to have a discussion about religion with you," I mutter, pulling my eyes away from the vehicle beside us at the red light when the driver of the minivan looks in my direction.
"You should know by now that I don't have to have someone listening to have a full-on conversation," he says, humor in his voice. "What I will say is that I don't understand someone worshipping a god that seems keen on hurting people."
"God doesn't hurt people," I murmur. "People hurt people."
"God is supposed to be all-seeing, all-knowing, and perfect. Which means that if he existed, he could create a perfect world. Instead of doing that, he created a world where children die of cancer. That alone tells me that if God exists, he's at minimum a sadist."
I ignore his words, but I feel them deep in my soul.
I live in a world where someone falls asleep, and innocent little boys burn to death. It wouldn't be my first time to doubt the existence of God, but my mind prefers to blame the deity. It makes the day easier than blaming myself. If God doesn't exist, then it becomes my fault that my sons died, and I don't know if I could ever come out from under the weight of that.
"This doesn't look like much," Lark says as he pulls up in front of the building as the navigation directs him.
The simple metal building is set off the main road as if an afterthought of the town's more flashy attractions.
"This doesn't look like a place that Caitlyn would come to," I mutter before I can think twice.
"And you know Dr. Rudd so well that you know where she'd go?"
I know that she wouldn't come to some place where people could touch her, including other dog owners, but I keep that thought to myself as we make our way to the front door.
The scent of pine cleaner and dog hit me in the face when we step inside. It isn't altogether a bad smell, and I can only imagine how difficult it would be for a place that caters to dogs not to smell like the creatures.
Something inside me calms when I spot her across the room, encouraging Eli to lead Kiva across the floor.
Instead of internalizing why that may be, I wish I had brought my own SUV so I could persuade the woman to leave with me when her time here was done.