Ben -else
No. Just no.
I could not watch this.
She was asking for too much. Coming here? Fine. Letting her have a little fun? Okay, I’d make sure she was safe. Having to watch a guy smooth a hand down her ass and tug her close to him? I couldn’t fucking do it.
It felt like someone lit a match inside me and I was about to explode.
“Hey, uh, Cap? A little tip?” Coleson’s voice murmured in my airpod that was rigged up to be a security feed as well. I needed contact with extra eyes for the night out.
I tapped the ear piece. “What?” I practically spat.
“Calm it down a little,” he laughed. “We can practically see steam coming from your ears.”
Yeah, well, standing here fuming was better than marching over there and ripping that guy’s arms off her.
I balled my fists. How the hell would I survive a whole night of this? Maggie and Kelly were both attractive women, and together? They were a dangerous combination that checked off almost everyone’s type. They had the heads of every guy in here turning toward them.
What they chose to wear did not help the situation.
When Maggie came out of her room in that short black dress that fit her like a second skin and those cowboy boots with her long, bare legs on display, her black hair lying straight down to her elbows in silky strands, I practically choked on my tongue.
“You’re not wearing that,” I gritted out when she stepped around me.
Her eyebrows slammed down defensively. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s cold as shit. You need pants or at least tights or something,” I spouted out the first excuse to come to mind. In my defense, it was starting to get colder after the sun went down these days.
She just rolled her eyes and said, “Only stretchy stuff fit over my cast and I don’t really want it on display.”
“What’s wrong with people seeing it?”
She looked at me like I had a third head. “It’s embarrassing, duh.”
“Duh? What are you, 13?” I cracked back, trying to ignore the painful guilt that slashed through my chest over the fact that she had a broken wrist to be embarrassed about in the first place.
She shot me a dry look and threw her little purse over her shoulder before stomping out of the apartment and that was that.
And now all the guys were staring at her long legs. And I wanted to beat their heads in for looking. For lusting. Fuck .
The guy she was talking to dipped closer to hear what she was saying while that arm of his wrapped around her waist.
That shoved me over the edge.
“Coleson?” I barked.
“Yes?”
“Keep an eye on her.”
Before I fully knew what I was doing, I stalked to the guys’ restroom and shoved through the old saloon doors.
A handful of guys were in line, others were washing their hands. A good enough amount to spread the word.
“There’s a girl out there in a short black dress, black cowboy boots with white stitching. Long black hair. Don’t fucking look at her. Don’t fucking talking to her, and don’t you dare fucking touch her. Everyone got it?”
Guys stared back at me with bored expressions.
“Or what?” a young smartass quipped.
“You’re not gonna want that kind of trouble, my guy.” Giving him a dark look, I lifted my shirt to reveal my badge and holster.
That sobered him up real quick. The others noticed as well. Good.
“Tell your friends,” I barked.
As I walked back out, feeling much calmer having done something, static erupted in my ear. “Couldn’t help yourself, could ya, boss?” Coleson asked, laughing through the headpiece. “Sure you don’t like her?”
“No,” I lied. “Now shut the fuck up and do your job.”
“Aye aye, Cap.”