Page 164 of Protective Heroes

An edgy tango eased into a hot salsa number made for seduction.

The thought of that asshat touching Shay the way Dyson’s dirty mind pictured touching her to this beat forced his feet to move faster and storm through the crowd earning several muttered curses as the rhythm picked up.

“Pardon me.” Eyes level and voice about as warm and polite as a pissed off viper, Dyson blocked Bautista’s next step.

“I believe the lady promised this dance to me. Right, Shay?” He turned to the sable-haired woman currently staring up at him, her face flushed a pretty pink, her soft brown eyes full of surprise.

“Dyson?”

Growing up, he never had much to call his own. Not with a father who wasted every dime on cigarettes and booze. But he’d learned something from the broken man despite the old man’s best efforts to trash his life.

He’d learned how to fight for what he wanted. It was what took him from boot camp to Recon, and he had no plans on backing off the fight now. He and Shay never talked about anything close to a family, but if it ever happened—God how he hoped it did—they would fight for something better.

How had Diego failed to mention a wanted criminal had made it to the VIP list? He made a mental note to ask later after Shay was safe.

“You’re welcome to wait.” Bautista flashed a grin meant to send a man’s heart into his ass with fear. Lucky for him intimidation stopped working somewhere around boot camp years back.

Trying to avoid a scene and get Shay as far away from danger as possible, he went the nice route and buried his need to break a few bones the longer that piece of shit clung onto his woman.

Dyson offered his hand, palm up to Shay. “Sweetheart, time to go.”

She looked at him a moment, the fire simmering in her eyes, but slowly placed her hand in his. Smart woman.

She may not know what was going on but she had good sense.

Tension uncoiled and tightened every muscle in his body.

Bautista’s eyes darkened as Dyson wound an arm around Shay’s shoulders.

The movement brought the sleeve of his shirt up and Bautista’s attention darted to Dyson’s arm where his unit’s tattoo peeked out from the short sleeve of his cotton shirt.

“I thought you Marine boys always move in packs? Where I see one there’s two or three. You’re all like fucking dogs.” His voice, thick with a Mexican accent deepened with anger to match his soulless black eyes.

Dyson leveled his stare at the man. Their heights leveled out to the same, but Dyson’s build across the shoulders and arms dwarfed Bautista’s thinner frame.

Dyson knew better than to mistake a small man for a small enemy though.

“That’s devil dogs to you, asshole.” His voice just as smug as Bautista’s.

Shay obviously wasn’t as thick-skinned as he was. Her body tensed beneath his touch and her nails dug into the skin of his arm. “Señor Bautista, you’re talking about my family and my friends.” Her tone harsh and just as sharp as her nails.

Cold, calculating eyes turned to Shay, disgust twisting Bautista’s features. He tilted his head to the side as if assessing her worth, and it took all Dyson had not to plant his fist in the other man’s face. Bautista’s eyes darted between them before landing on his. “I didn’t realize the dog had his bitch.” Bautista shifted his weight and focused squarely on Shay. “Running with this Marine marks you as a traitor to México and your mama, Señorita Torres.” Bautista snarled, his words barely audible above the music.

Shay drew back, and Dyson tightened his hold just enough to let her know she was safe.

Dyson caught a gleam in her eye a split second before she pulled out of his hold, her hand raised to strike Bautista. Dyson caught her just in time. If anyone needed to be knocked on their ass that was his job.

An arrogant smirk lifted Bautista’s mouth in contrast to the waves of anger that rolled off the man.

Dyson held his ground, not giving Bautista the satisfaction of seeing how close he was to giving him a taste of his fist.

He understood all too well how men like Bautista operated. They played and used people until they had their hooks so deep the person had no way out. Then his true nature would come out to play. Dyson wouldn’t let that happen to Shay.

“All good here?” Dyson sensed Shay’s cousin before he spoke up from beside him.

“Peachy. The man was just confused about who we are. I set him straight. Now he’s taking his leave.” Dyson kept his voice level as he spoke to Diego, never taking his eyes off Bautista.

Bautista’s calm and collected persona slid into place like a glove, masking the snake again. “Sí,” he drawled out. “For now, it seems so. Unless…” Bautista’s gaze anchored on Shay. He stepped closer, placing a hand on her lower arm pulling a snarling growl from him.

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