Mayhem (Deathstalkers MC #5)(19)

I'm not typically hands-on with the girls. It gives off the wrong impression. But seeing her shaking, I know what I need to do. I pull her close, feeling her shoulders shake when I rest my chin on her head. "I want the brothers informed that this asshole is banned from the club permanently. He isn't to step one fucking foot within fifty feet of this building."

She pulls back and wipes at her eyes, nodding in answer. "Fifty feet. Got it."

If I ever saw that guy again, I was going to tear him a new asshole. My girls should feel safe at work. It's something I pride myself on; something I promise them when they start here. A lot of them come from bad places. Dancing might not be for everyone, but it's a good way for them to earn money to support their families. If they don't feel safe here, they'll leave. And I'll be damned if I'm the reason they end up back on the streets. I take a deep breath, squeezing the bridge of my nose before meeting her gaze. "Are you okay?"

She swallows hard, squares her shoulders, and meets my gaze. "Yes. Now go see to Jasmine. She needs you." With each step toward my office, the desperation to make sure Jasmine is okay grows thicker and stronger. Adrenaline is pumping through my body and I take a few deep breaths before I walk in so I don't scare her. I know she'll be shaken and scared, and she'll need someone to lean on.

I want to be that person for her.

I should have kicked her husband's ass worse than I did. In the heat of the moment, I just wanted her away from him, somewhere safe. He needs to know she's off limits from now on. I will protect her from him, no matter what I need to do. Maybe that isn't my place, but I can't control myself. I need her to be safe. I'm a domineering asshole at the best of times: possessive and controlling, sometimes even sadistic, if the timing is right. But one thing I will never do is abuse a woman.

Anxiety twists my gut. I don't know Jasmine's story, but the way she backed away from him doesn't lead me to think he brings her flowers or kisses her good-night.

I push down on the handle. "Jasmine, are you-"

My eyes scan the empty room.

"Fuck." I turn and bump into Torch.

"What the hell happened? Melanie is all freaked out. She told us some guy was permanently banned, and told Trace that you said to make sure everyone knows."

I look down the hall but there's no sign of Tracie. She must be with Melanie. My hand drags through my hair. I don't have time to stand and shoot the shit. I need to find her. "It's Jasmine."

"Who?" His eyes narrow as the name registers. "Your assistant?"

"Her husband is the asshole who was in here a few days ago, the one that got rough with Melanie."

"Shit. What happened today?" He leans against the wall next to him.

"I told the fucker not to come back. Told him, Torch. What does the dumb fuck do? Shows up here, shooting his mouth off. Melanie came and got me. Jasmine came out of the office I'm guessing to see what all the yelling was about. Should have seen her. Color dropped right out of her face. I thought she was going to drop on the spot." I remember her face as she saw him, the fear that filled her eyes. The way that he gripped her arm and she winced at the contact. That wasn't the first time he's put his hands on her, but if I have anything to do with it, it'll be the last. "He hurts her. I know he does. I need to get out of here and find her. Can you keep an eye on the club for tonight?"

While I've been talking, Torch's shoulders have squared. He's no longer leaning on the wall. His fists clench at his sides. He's ready for whatever needs to be done. "Need company?"



       
         
       
        

"No, I got this. I need a car though, or a truck. I don't know that taking my bike right now would work."

"No problem." He reaches in his pocket and fishes out a key. "Take Tracie's car, I'll give her a ride home and have one of the prospects take your bike to your place."

"Thanks, brother."

"Anytime." He claps me on the back and walks back toward the front of the building.

My desk is still covered in paper but I manage to find Jasmine's application with her address on it and run through the club to the car.



***



I get more than a few honks and threats as I weave through the traffic, changing lanes at a moment's notice, running lights, not even bothering to take notice of the speed limit. The closer I get to Jasmine's address, the harder my heart pounds. I don't know why I'm so nervous. I know this guy; know his M.O. I've taught plenty of these guys a damn lesson about putting their hands on women. I grew up with that shit. I would never want what was done to my mom to be done to anyone else. It isn't right.