Page 37 of Her Crew

My jaw clenches. “Is that what this is about?”

“He’s said some shit things about Tegan,” Tye says behind me. When he sees my shaking fists, the tables turn, and Tye steps in front of me. “Don’t,” he warns.

“Don’t what? Fucking kill him? Because that’s what I fully intend to do.” I slam into his brick body as he holds me back. No one speaks about Tegan like that.

“I suggest you get the fuck out of here, kid!” Tye yells, aiming his words behind him and hurling them toward Billy. Only once he’s out of my sight do I remember why we’re fighting at all.

“Where’s Tegan?” Tye asks.

A distant grunt reaches our ears, almost imperceptible, but we both look at one another.

We take off across the parking lot, heading toward the sound. When I turn the corner, I can’t believe what I see. Rolo has Tegan pinned against the wall. His pants are half down his ass, and he’s working on hers.

A red veil drops over my vision. I have lived most of my adult life fantasizing about other men with my girl. Dreamed about it. But those fantasies never involved the pain or fear I see in Tegan’s wide eyes right now. In my fantasies, she enjoys it. She isn’t enjoying this at all.

I grab Rolo, shocked that someone I’ve ridden with for years would ever do something like this, let alone to my girl.

“Hey!” he screams as I pull him against my chest.

I punch him in the dick, and he crumples at the knees and hits the ground. “Take her, Tye! Take care of her!”

My fists pummel his face, over and over, and I don’t think that red veil will ever recede again. I continue the onslaught until my fists ache. I stand and trade the punches for kicks. Each time my shoe makes solid contact with his abdomen or his fucking face, it’s for Tegan.

“Fuck you!” I scream down at him as I send the sole of my shoe onto his skull. I’m not even sure Rolo is still alive, and I don’t fucking care, but then he groans. “Don’t ever fucking look at her. Don’t speak to her. You’re lucky you aren’t leaving this hallway in a fucking body bag, you worthless piece of shit.”

Rolo groans again, and I leave him with his injuries so that I can check on Tegan. Maybe he’ll die. One can hope.

I race down the wall of doors until I reach mine. My hands scramble through my pockets, but then I remember that Tye has the key. My fists bang against the door, and it opens seconds later.

“Where is she?” I ask, breaking past Tye.

“Ace!” He grips my arm and rips me backward. “You can’t go to her like that. You’re covered in his blood. Go to my room and clean up!”

I look down at my torso, and he’s right. Blood soaks my shoes and pants. Red splatters stipple my shirt. Even so, there isn’t time for that. I need to know she’s okay.

I rip my arm from his grasp and head toward the closed bathroom door. It’s locked. I take a deep breath and control my voice so that I don’t sound as angry as I am.

“Pup? Hey, it’s me. Can you open the door?”

Seconds pass. The door eases open, and her eyes widen as she looks at me. It looks like I committed a homicide, and hell, maybe I did, but she doesn’t flinch as I take a step forward and pull her into me.

“Look at me, pup,” I say, but her eyes refuse to obey. I shake her shoulders. “Fucking look at me.”

Her hazel eyes finally rise to meet mine. “Ace.”

“Did he . . . ?” I don’t even finish my sentence. I can’t.

She blinks up at me and shakes her head, but I don’t know if I believe her, and I can’t get a read one way or another. As someone who knows how to stuff that hurt deep down into their gut until they shit it out, I can’t blame her for masking her pain. But I’m afraid she won’t share it at all. The shame of assault can be too fucking much.

Gripping the sides of her face, I force her to look into my eyes. “Tell me the truth, Tegan. Tell me right now. Did he⁠—?”

“What the hell are you doing, Ace?” Tye’s voice is a booming roar that I’ve never heard before. He charges forward and scruffs my shirt like a cat, and I can’t even speak. “Go clean yourself off. It’s not a suggestion anymore.”

He hauls me out of the bathroom and tosses his room key at my feet. The way he squares up makes me certain I need to do exactly that or risk losing both of them, so I take the key and head to his room.

I wash the blood from my arms and neck, but I can’t do anything about the stains on my shirt. The bloody water swirls around the sink’s drain. I avoid my own reflection as I wipe blood from my cheek. What I did to Tegan was awful. Instead of comforting her, I was too focused on the facts.

I’ve never cared about anyone the way I care about her. It’s like she’s directly connected to me by some firm thread of familiar trauma. I want nothing more than to protect her from everyone and everything. I needed to know that what I did to Rolo was sufficient. If he actually touched her, she’s still mine. Wholeheartedly mine. It wouldn’t affect how I feel about her. It would only affect my next actions.