Page 36 of Chasing Bandit

“You’re just as much my ex as any other woman I'm fucking in Texas.”

“Where’s your wife?” I spat out, ignoring his disgusting comment.

He shrugged, “Probably off getting her hair done like she usually does on Thursdays.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked trying to stall for time while I figured out a plan to get me out of this hellish situation.

“Was passing through on a campaign I have going on in San Angelo and I figured I’d pay the new, blushing bride a visit. How’s married life treating you? Is it everything you expected it would be married to a poor, dumb cowboy?” he asked sarcastically.

I clenched my jaw. “It’s great. My husband and I are madly in love. Speaking of Wylie, he’s actually on his way here right now.”

He stormed forward getting so close in my face that I could smell the cheap cologne he'd worn since high school that had always nauseated me. “You think I give a shit that you’re married now? You owe me for the rest of your damn life, Vector. You and your sister.”

"I paid you back," I insisted firmly.

"Your debt isn't paid until I say it's paid." He gripped the back of my neck harshly before aggressively slamming his lips against mine and spiking his tongue into my mouth. I attempted to clamp my mouth shut and tried to bite down, but he gripped my neck harder, surely leaving bruise marks while I tried to push his chest away.

Before I could react, a loud shout pierced the air, and suddenly Charles was forcefully pulled away from me. I watched as he stumbled backward, and Wylie stood in front of me protectively now, breathing heavily. Without hesitation, Wylie swung his arm back and delivered a solid punch directly to his jaw.

“Wylie!” I screamed as Charles fell backwards, folding in half for a moment before standing straight again.

He attempted a feeble swing at Wylie, that he effortlessly dodged before landing another punch to his face. Wylie's years of fighting and hard labor contrasted sharply with Charles's soft, uncalloused hands that had never seen a day of manual labor. Growing up wrestling with two brothers had honed Wylie's reflexes; he smoothly avoided Charles's next punch and swiftly tackled him, pinning him to the ground and holding him in a headlock.

“Hey Stevie, you going to explain what this mother fucker is doing with his tongue jammed down my wife's mouth, or do I need to break his neck?”

Damn, if that wasn’t the sexiest question I’d ever heard.

Charle’s face reddened as Wylie tightened his grip, cutting off his oxygen supply. His eyes were bulging now, and I considered letting Wylie do it. That’d solve all my problems for good, but I knew having him get sent away to prison for manslaughter, especially of the governor’s son, wasn’t the solution. Seeing Charles realize that Wylie and I had something real, and understanding that Wylie wasn't someone to mess with, instantly made me feel safer.

I tried to manage my most calm response possible as I picked at the bed of my nails and watched Charles' face turn from red to blue. I was enjoying this view. The man had made me suffer for years; it was his turn to feel some pain.

“Let him go Wylie, he isn’t worth it.”

He tightened his grip a little more before loosening just enough to stand him up and push him towards the kitchen in the back.

“Move," he commanded.

Charles attempted some sort of weak maneuver of a swing again, but Wylie easily caught his fist and twisted his arm backwards to the point where I heard something in his wrist snap. “I wouldn’t try that again, fucker. If you do, you’ll see just how far I’ll go to protect what’s mine.”

Charles' face went red again as tried to hold still out of fear of a broken arm while Wylie walked him into the kitchen and up to the walk-in freezer door.

“You can’t be serious,” he choked out when he realized what was happening.

Wylie nudged him forward. "Step inside and let me talk to my wife. Once I'm finished, if I'm satisfied with what she says and if she agrees, then I'll release you."

Wylie pushed him into the freezer with one final shove and moved to close the door.

“You’re fucking insane!” he screamed as he gripped his bruised vocal cords and spun around to escape but Wylie had already slammed the door shut, effectively closing the freezer and Charles inside.

My eyes widened. “Is he going to survive in there?”

Wylie shrugged, “He’d probably be able to make it a coupl’a hours but if you don’t want to find out, you better start talking and tell me who he is and what he’s doing touching you.”

I paced back and forth in front of the closed freezer door, trying to figure out how to explain Charles to Wylie while also freaking out about the close call with the man locked behind the doors of the freezer.

“You'll judge me, and you won't understand.”

“Try me, Stevie.”

---