Page 34 of Tripp

I watched and waited. The group of men made their way down the side of another house, his house their final target. They swept through the side yard, moving into position.

Casey’s attack replayed in my mind’s eye. I could see it like I was there. That bastard—he had bum rushed her right into a brick wall. He’d touched her. Hit her. He’d hurt her. Again. The son of a bitch had learned nothing from our last encounter.

The fight wasn’t so one-sided though. Casey had fought back. She’d even put him on his ass. Her only mistake had been not kicking him in the balls before she ran for the truck. That he’d have needed another minute to recover from, and she could maybe have gotten away from him.

When she was feeling better, and this incident was behind her, I would teach her more moves. She would be able to defend herself in the future.

Though, my mind was already made up; there would be no more solo cases. I was officially moving back to Texas, a place I’d not lived in since I’d graduated.

I’d be here for her—for our family.

If she had a case, I would somewhere close as backup. If I couldn’t be, then one of the others would be. I’d be damned if this kind of thing happened again. Call it overprotective, intrusive; whatever. It was just how this was going to work. If she needed me to do the same, I’d do it. I’d have backup with me at all times. I could compromise when it was possible.

The shouts of the men entering the house rang through the evening. My head jerked up, my focus on the house and the street.

The sun was getting ready to depart for the night. It gave me just enough time to take down the man running for his car. I got into position, revving the bike before I took off down the road.

He looked up, my engine catching his attention. His eyes widened when he saw who was rushing for him. Making a decision he’d live to regret, he took off running. I was right behind him. He darted across a yard; I followed, dodging a swing set and a grill. My bike never slowed.

He made a pivotal mistake. He thought jumping the long, half-collapsed fence into the next yard would stop me. I aimed for the waist high gate and barreled through. The chain links split with the force of the hit.

He turned to see where I was and tripped, slamming into the ground; he was up quickly, his legs carrying him across the yard. I revved the engine and when he was only a few feet from the road, I got closer, kicking my leg out.

His knee buckled from the kick; he collapsed. It left him on the ground, writhing in pain while I slowed to stop the bike. I took my time lowering the kickstand and climbing off.

The street lights were coming on now. I reached down, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt.

“Remember me, motherfucker?”

“I see that cunt came running to you for help.”

There went my being nice. I punched him as hard as I could. His lip split; he laughed.

“You’re too old and soft for her, old man,” he said, spitting blood.

I said nothing. He didn’t deserve my words, just the consequences of his actions. My personal brand of Vigilante Justice.

Pulling him to his feet, his features hardened. He was sweating. Aw, how sweet. The pain was a mother for a knee injury like that.

I smiled, meeting his gaze.

I let him get a hit in. Okay, maybe two, before I punched him again. He slammed back into the ground with a grunt of pain.

“That the best you got, old man?” His head fell to the side, blood pooling in his mouth. He spit again.

“You should die today,” I said calmly, my voice even.

“Bitch got what she deserves!”

I reared back and kicked him in the gut. He wasn’t laughing now. Asshole. “Every time you call her a bitch, or even think about her, I’m breaking your family jewels, ribs. Maybe even your fucking toes. How’s that sound?”

He opened his mouth—I kicked him again before he could utter a word.

Now, he was curling into himself, like a fucking baby. With both hands, I snatched him up. I wanted nothing more than to bury his face in the stump across from where I stood. If I did though, I’d not stop until he was no longer human-looking.

“You think it’s okay to go after my girl and hurt her?”

He grunted as I put my full weight behind the next punch. Every time I thought I was done, a new image of her lying in that hospital bed would burn through my brain.

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