Texas Heroes_ Volume 1(35)

Boone saw red. He picked up speed, shoving through the crowd. But when he got close to them, he slowed down, remembering what he’d once seen Hank do to a reluctant girlfriend. He had to handle this carefully or Maddie could get hurt.

“Evenin’, Hank,” Boone drawled.

Hank kept a tight grip on Maddie but didn’t look at him, only a short nod. “Gallagher. Heard you were back.”

Boone shot Maddie a worried glance, then choked back a grin. If Hank gave her an inch to maneuver, he was going to find himself unmanned. Maddie wasn’t scared yet—she looked mad as the devil.

But Boone knew Hank was truly dangerous. “Let’s go outside and catch up on old times, Hank.”

The glare Maddie shot him should have incinerated him on the spot. Impatience vibrated from her every pore. “Let go of me, you big, fat—oof!”

Boone grabbed Maddie’s arm and turned suddenly, wedging his shoulder in between them. With practiced ease, he slid Maddie away and behind him. “I don’t think the lady is enjoying herself.”

Hank’s little pig eyes narrowed. “She was dancing with me. We weren’t finished.”

“Well, you see, Hank, there’s just one problem. I was never very good at sharing.”

“She’s not yours. You weren’t here. You left.”

“But I was coming back. And here I am.” Boone kept his voice smooth. He didn’t see how Hank could miss the implied threat. He wouldn’t initiate the fight, but Hank couldn’t have forgotten who had usually wound up on top.

He pulled Maddie close. “You go on and find yourself another girl, Hank. This one’s taken.” Turning away, he walked Maddie toward the outside.

They had almost reached the door when Maddie was wrenched from his arms. Hank jerked her to him and grabbed her hair, grinding his mouth down on hers.

Boone went blind with rage. He leaped toward them. Grabbing Hank by the arm, he jerked him away from Maddie. The solid connection of fist to jaw didn’t begin to placate the roar in his head.

Hank had put his mouth on Maddie. Had hurt Maddie.

Boone never heard the shouting around him. He entered a zone of deadly silence, a savage place where forsaken skills had lain dormant. With brutal satisfaction, he punished Hank for daring to hurt Maddie’s bright spirit, for endangering the light she had brought into his life.

“Boone, stop! Please—” Finally, Maddie’s voice sliced through the rage.

He looked at her, her face drained of all color. Then he looked back at Hank, collapsed against the wall, chest heaving.

“You crazy sonofa—” Hank roared. “The bitch is the spawn of a murderer. You’re welcome to her.” He spat at her feet.

Boone charged toward him, but Maddie held on for dear life to one arm while Jim grabbed him by the other, stepping between him and Hank.

“Come on now, Boone. Back away. He’s crazy and mean. You know that. Come on. You’re scaring Maddie.”

The last words broke through to him. Boone looked down at her and saw her eyes gone huge and dark.

Now he’d done it. She’d seen what lay inside him, the dark, howling beast that had been his salvation…and damnation.

He turned to Hank. “You’re not fit to walk on the same ground as Maddie. If I ever hear you talking about her like that again, I’ll—”

“Boone, please.” Maddie’s quiet voice settled him as nothing else could.

But he wasn’t quite through. “You stay away from her, you hear me? You stay very far away.”

Hank didn’t respond. He turned and lumbered off, leaning on a friend.

Then Boone realized that his eye hurt like hell. He reached up and came away with blood on his fingers.

“I’ll drive you home in your truck,” Jim offered. “Maddie can come later with Velda.”

Boone looked at Maddie, prepared for her revulsion. Instead he saw quiet strength.

“That’s all right, Jim,” she said. “If Boone can’t see to drive, I can drive his truck. We’ll be all right.”

Jim glanced back and forth between them. “You sure about that, Maddie?”

His meaning was clear. Boone wasn’t fit to be with her.

She nodded and clutched Boone’s arm tightly. “Yes. I’m sure.” Then she looked up at Boone. “Can you drive or would you like me to do it?”

He started to shrug her off. He was unclean, contaminated by the rage that had spewed from him. “I can get myself home. No need for you to come.”

She reached for a bar towel someone had brought over. Lifting it to his face with careful strokes, she mopped away the blood. Then she stared him straight in the eye. “Don’t trip over that pride, Boone. You took care of me. Now let me take care of you.”