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A thumping noise sounded outside and a fist connected with the front door and began pounding. “Veronica! Open up! Open up now! I know you’re there. Open the fucking door!”
Veronica’s jaw dropped as she made eye contact with Travis and then she looked down at her nudity. She scampered down the hall and reappeared a moment later in her robe. Travis muttered, “Two guesses who’s at the door.”
In a tight voice, Hank said, “This is our day for dealing with assholes, I suppose.”
Veronica started to walk around them to answer the door but they stopped her and Hank said, “Let us handle this, Nika. I’m not allowing him within striking distance of you again.”
Travis slid his hand into hers and held on to her as Hank went to the door but didn’t stop her as she trailed behind.
More pounding vibrated the door in its frame. “Let me in, Chubbs! I’m about to blow that doorknob off if you don’t let me in!”
“Shit!” Travis acted so fast it tore a gasp from Veronica, as he pivoted and placed his body between her and the door and maneuvered her into the hallway.
Travis growled, realizing that neither of them was armed. She shrugged when he quietly asked her if Brent owned a gun. He quickly joined Hank, stationing himself on the opposite side of the front door. The pounding continued. If this son of a bitch was telling the truth—
Veronica peeked around the corner and called out, “Hang on! I’m opening the door!”
Hank gestured for her to back farther into the hallway and reached out to throw the bolt and unlock the doorknob. Before he could manage either, a tremendous weight landed against the door, cracking the frame. The door exploded open on the second impact, startling a scream from Veronica. A big, stocky bastard charged through the door and pivoted his head on his thick neck one way and then the other before he made eye contact with Travis beside the door.
Dressed in a dirty denim jacket, jeans, and muddy work boots, aggression burned in his eyes as his fists bunched angrily. This was what Veronica had been dealing with? He was flexing those fists for Veronica? Not anymore.
“Brent, I presume?” Travis said, and then nailed the big son of a bitch with an uppercut that didn’t even rock him, much less fell him.
The guy shook his head and looked at Travis. “Who in the fuck are you?” He scowled and reached for Travis’s shirtfront. Pain exploded in Travis’s head as Brent nailed him in the jaw with a rock-like fist and he hit the floor.
Hank sprang at the bastard. Travis shook his head, trying to make the stars dissipate and saw Veronica as she backed into the kitchen from the hallway. Good girl. It might take two of them to take this behemoth down but he needed to know she was safe.
Brent toppled under Hank’s weight and broke the coffee table as he landed on it, fighting Hank, his eyes wild with fury. Hank had been a wrestling team champion and was using his skills to pin the slightly larger man to the floor. He held him steady and reached behind him for cuffs that weren’t there and then grinned at Travis. The lawman was deeply ingrained in Hank. He instead patted down the asshole’s pockets and waistband, looking for weapons and then shook his head negatively at Travis.
The intruder flopped and huffed, blowing air through his nostrils like an angry bull but finally stilled.
Rubbing his jaw, Travis squatted down into Brent’s line of sight. “You done, dickhead?”
Brent struggled some more, anger and exertion turning his face red. “Sons of bitches. What the fuck are you doing here?”
Hank growled in Brent’s ear. “Not that it’s any of your business, dickhead, but let me make some introductions so you know who you’re dealing with. You just struck a game warden and you’ve been subdued by the sheriff of Divine County, whose house you’ve broken into.”
“He hit me first!”
“After you threatened to do harm with a loaded firearm and broke through a locked door.”
The fight went out of the behemoth and he went limp. “Shit.”
Hank finally released him after making certain Veronica was safe. The bastard proved he had a brain as he stayed where he’d been put, facedown on the floor.
Veronica returned to the living room dressed head to foot, Hank’s work belt in her trembling hands. “What are you doing here, Brent?” Veronica asked in a confrontational tone as she surveyed the damage. Travis had to smile. The girl he’d reconnected with at the wedding would’ve stayed back and let them do the talking. “Should I call 911, Hank?”
