The line goes dead.
I stare at the phone for a moment, then grab my keys, and I’m already halfway to the door when my phone rings again.
Micah.
I answer. “Yeah?”
“She’s fine.”
“Where is she?”
“Back at the table with me, Harleigh, and Porter.”
That stops me.
“Good.”
“Yeah,” Micah says, voice amused now. “And for the record, that guy and his friends are assholes.”
My grip tightens on the phone. “What happened?”
“He didn’t want to let her go. Kept talking, getting a little too familiar with her.”
My jaw flexes. “And?”
“And I poured the drink he’d bought her in his lap.”
I can hear the grin in his voice.
“Stood toe to toe with him,” Micah continues. “Told him he was done. He finally got the message and backed the fuck off.”
Something in my chest eases … just slightly.
“Good,” I say. “Don’t let him near her again.”
Micah laughs. “Yeah, well, you’re welcome.”
I exhale, running a hand over my face. “Tell Cabe to keep eyes on her, for fuck’s sake. Anything can happen to a girl in a bar.”
“I will,” Micah says. “And, Axle?”
“What?”
All amusement leaves his voice.
“She’s fine. Do you really think with me, Royce, Cabe, and Porter here, we’d let anything happen to one of the girls?”
I don’t answer right away. Because he’s right. Hell, even Harleigh would kick the shit out of anyone who tried to take advantage.
“I know you wouldn’t,” I finally say.
“What the hell is going on with you?”
“I just got some weird texts from her and overreacted.”
“That’s a problem. Don’t ya think?”
“Yeah. One I’m working on.”
