The Barman and the SEAL by RJ Scott

Author:RJ Scott [Scott, RJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Total-E-Bound Publishing
Published: 2013-08-21T16:00:00+00:00

* * * *

They walked back to the town and it was the most perfect feeling in the world to be holding Avery’s hand. Something had snapped into place between them and when Avery’d said he’d wait a whole world of hurt had lifted from his shoulders. They made it back to the bar and stood outside for a second. This was the goodbye for now. Just a kiss wouldn’t hurt. Avery wouldn’t immediately want more in the middle of the damn street. He opened his mouth to talk but was distracted by a crash inside the bar. Seemed as if Avery heard the noise at the same time and together they rushed inside.

Travis assessed the situation immediately. Clientele pinned back at the rear, one man brandishing a length of wood, the brunette working the bar standing in front of him. She was bleeding, a cut to her face, a man was lying on the floor, unconscious, and Mikey had the bar between him and the man.

“I wanna fuckin’ drink, bitch,” the man slurred.

Call it instinct or training or whatever the hell pushed him to move, but before Avery could step forward, Travis was forcing his way between Clare and her assailant.

“Back off,” he snapped with authority.

“Or what?” the man demanded. In seconds Travis had the wood out of the man’s hand and had tossed it back over the bar. It looked like a chair leg and, judging by the broken table just to the left of them, Travis guessed the man had caused some damage.

“Out of the bar,” Travis ordered. He wanted the drunk away from everyone and outside he could control the situation.

“Eddie, you need to leave,” Avery said from his left shoulder.

“Fuck you, homo,” Eddie spat. His words were slurred and he threw an ineffective punch at Travis who stepped back slightly to avoid the swinging meaty arm.

“Someone dial 911,” he said.

“Already done, cops on the way,” Mikey said.

Travis didn’t know the trigger for what happened next. Maybe it was the threat of cops, maybe Travis himself was standing too aggressively, maybe the alcohol had completely knocked the guy’s intelligence sideways but suddenly, coldly and with calculation, Eddie had a gun in his hand and he’d grabbed Clare, who screamed at the move.

Travis heard Avery call Clare’s name, his name, but the red mist of action slid over Travis and in a few moves he had separated Clare away, put his own body in between the gun and her, then had the drunk near unconscious and on the floor. The gun skittered to one side and he kicked it away before grinding Eddie’s face into the floor of the bar and ordering him to fucking stay there. Eddie moved his head and with one more bang to the floor he was silent.

“You can leave him,” Avery said gently. He encouraged Travis to stand. Travis shrugged off the grip and stalked to pick up the gun, then he emptied it of the bullets which tumbled to the floor in staccato succession.

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