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“Stop, man! If you fuck up his face too much, he won’t be pretty enough for all the guys in prison.” Jennings barred his arm over Julius’s chest, forcing him back another step.
“I want to kill him!”
“We know that. But you can’t. So back the fuck off!”
Jennings managed to position himself in front of the stalker.
“Tell me your name,” Julius barked at the guy.
He remained silent, his lips compressed.
“Tell me!” He threw himself at him again.
Lark’s voice came from a few feet away. “Avalynn’s manager confirmed that his name is Justin French, and they dated for a brief time before her rise to fame.”
He broke away from Jennings and he took a menacing step toward the guy before Jennings threw himself between them.
“Just one punch, brother,” he snarled.
“Your one punch will kill him. Stand down. Let us take care of peewee here. Go to your wife.”
Wife.
The one word that could snap him out of the red haze of fury fogging his mind.
“I never had sex with her.”
The guy’s statement had everyone focused on him.
“I couldn’t...”
“Get your small dick hard enough?” Julius roared.
Jennings stepped between them, keeping Julius from killing him. On the other hand, relief swept through him.
He swung his gaze from Jennings to Clay standing feet away. They could handle the stalker. He’d go to Avalynn. He had a lot of making up to do for keeping her out of the loop that her stalker was in custody. At the time he’d made the choice for her own good. She didn’t need to be upset right before a show.
Telling her now that she was free, that the need to fear was gone, would only make Julius’s time with her that much sweeter.
When he made that promise to come to her for their new pre-performance ritual, he knew he would never keep it. He’d be too busy interrogating and punishing her stalker.
“You guys got this?” he asked Clay.
He gave him a single nod and drew aside his open jacket so Julius could see the cold steel strapped to his side.
Seeing that Sentry had it covered, Julius spun around and headed out of the main festival office where they’d stuck the guy after finding him lurking around the PR team’s bus.
In long strides, he hurried away, his only focus Avalynn. All was well now. They really had him.
The sun was setting fast, and his shadow lengthened along the ground as he strode to Avalynn’s bus. After only a few steps, he realized that this was over now.
He’d be leaving her.
How did he make an exit plan for extricating his heart?
His steps slowed. God, he couldn’t be dragging his feet on this, could he? He operated alone or with Sentry. He couldn’t pull a woman into a life like that. Lark and Dove were exceptions. Dove had worked for the FBI with Quaide—she knew how dark the world could be. And Lark was just woven from a different fiber. She’d land on her feet no matter what shape the world took.
But Avalynn… Christ, she was tender and soft and naïve despite the harsh spotlight she stood in.
