AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Her little carthat she had driven for years and loved so much—her dad had bought it for her when she’d finally graduated high school at nineteen, as a gift for her triumphing over her own demons the way she had—was going to beok,it was just going to take some time, money, and work to get it road ready again.
Houston’s big green truck that he had so obviously adored wasn’t going to be so lucky. He cursed but when he looked at her, she didn’t think he was that angry.
“You good?” She’d seen him angry before. With an intern they’d fired who’d been stealing equipment out of the storage room to fund a drug habit. And taking things out of people’s lockers and bags.
He’d been caught getting into Brooke’s bag she’d put in her office. Houston had ripped into him, up one side and down the other.
He had a notorious temper around the station—but only when someone seriously deserved it.
But the station was a microcosm, a world unto itself. He could be a totally different man outside the station. She wasn’t stupid. Nor was she reckless.
His eyes were clear. “Yes, I’m good. It’s just a truck. Plenty more out there. We’re alive. My brother and sister are alive. For too long last night I was afraid they weren’t. I’d lose a thousand trucks without flinching now. I know what matters most, honey. It’s not a truck. My kid sister got out of that hell alive. My older brother, too. May I…walk…you somewhere? I’m not about to let you walk anywhere alone in this.”
“I’d like that very?—“
Brooke yelled out when something hard slammed into her back and she went sprawling to the wet pavement just outside the station door.
Houston yelled and then he was jumping over her and facing the threat head on.
CHAPTER 15
Houston smelled the whiskey first.And he understood. While he and Brooke had been working their asses off to keep the station going during one of the worst events in Finley Creek history, this sonofabitch had been slipping whiskey every chance he could.
Probably sitting there, watching Brooke sleep through the window, and boiling over with rage that he hadn’t gotten what he wanted. Resenting Houston because he thought the younger man would getexactlywhat Hoby wanted.
Hoby wanted Brooke. Whether it was because of the guy’s beef with her father, or because she was a hot, gorgeous, beautiful, intriguing woman, or because Hoby got off on the control and the thrill of having a defenseless woman afraid of him, Houston didn’t know. He didn’t care.
Hoby wasn’t going to touch her ever again.
She wasn’t defenseless now.
She had him. And if it came to it, he’d bring down the fury of seven Evers brothers on the bastard’s head. Hoby wasn’t going to hurt her or scare her ever again.
Houston was going to make sure of it.
Houston reached his arm up in time to stop the piece of wood coming at his head. Sickening pain shot straight up his arm.
Brooke screamed, yelled his name.
He ignored the pain, bellowing. He grabbed the wood and yanked it out of the asshole’s hand. It was just a 2x2 piece of trim, around four feet long. Not the best choice for a weapon. Hoby had gotten lucky it had connected with Houston at all.
Hoby’s luck had just run out.
Houston cracked it in two over one knee and threw it aside.
Hoby charged.
Houston stopped him with one punch—from his non-dominant hand. The man was fall-down drunk, smaller than Houston, and damned stupid.
It wouldn’t even be sporting for Houston to hit him a second time.
People came running—people he recognized. Keith, and Keeli, and Hailey—interns from the college dorms nearby who’d worked for the station for a semester or so each.
“What happened?” Keith stepped in between him and Hoby. Houston would have smiled—Keith was five inches and seventy-five pounds smaller than Houston himself. Keith’s eyes widened, and he waved a hand in front of his own face, as Angel joined them. Angel was a good-sized kid—he and Keith could handle Hoby now. “Whoa, Hoby is wasted. Guy reeks. Why did he go after you?”
No real explanation was needed. The asshole was still cursing—cursing Brooke and her father and Houston. And the things he was saying about Brooke… Houston just grunted, fighting the urge to slug the jerk again. His damned hand was probably broken, but…it was worth it. Hoby had deserved it. “He has been harassing Brooke.”
“He’s such a creeper,” Hailey, all of nineteen, said with disgust. “Every girl who steps foot in the station knows not to be alone with him by the end of day one. You ok, Brooke?”
