Page 28 of All for You

He makes a move, invading my personal space, confirming the alcohol has become his superpower tonight. Between the stench of his drinking and his cloying cologne, my stomach churns.

“Or what?” He says. “You’ll sic your new boy toy on me?” He jerks his head at Travis. “Tell me, dude, do you know what a frigid bitch she really is?”

This time, instead of shrinking away, defiance surges. “Fuck you,” I spit, shoving him hard in the chest. Hard enough that he stumbles back multiple steps. “You don’t get to talk about me like that anymore. You don’t get to talk to me at all.” Each word sweeps through me, like breaking free from invisible chains. Rage courses through me, hot and fierce. I spent far too much time under his thumb. But not anymore.

Matt surprises me by jumping forward and grabbing my arm, his fingers digging into my flesh.

Before I can even react, Travis emerges from behind like a force of nature. In the glow of the streetlights, he towers over Matt, his broad shoulders and imposing height making Matt back up, but he doesn’t back down, and he still has hold of my arm.

“This is none of your business, cowboy. Why don’t you mosey on back to your ranch and leave us city folk to sort out our own problems?”

Travis’s jaw clenches, and a muscle ticks in his cheek. His eyes are big and dark and bursting with anger. “Rachel made it crystal fucking clear she wants nothing to do with you. I’ve stood here and listened to you insult her, and me, for longer than I liked. And as she says, this is her fight. But not anymore, because now I’m making it mine. Take your fucking hand off her before I break it.”

His tone is downright frosty, so it can only be the warmth of the alcohol that keeps Matt going.

“Oh, I get it.” Matt snorts in derision. “You think you’re her knight in shining armor, don’t you? Well, let me tell you?—”

“Enough!” Travis cuts him off, his voice sharp as a whip crack. “The only thing I need to know about Rachel is thatshe deserves far better than an asshole like you. Remove your fucking hand. Now.”

Warmth blooms in my chest at Travis’s words. His defense of me, so fierce and protective, touches something deep inside. It isn’t about needing a savior. It’s about having someone who sees my worth when I’ve forgotten how to see it myself.

“The only way you’ll ever breathe in Rachel’s presence again,” Travis says through gritted teeth, moving right up to Matt’s face, “will be through a straw. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear—city boy?”

The threat hangs in the air, heavy and palpable. Matt’s face pales, his bravado faltering for the first time. He looks from Travis to me, then back again, as if weighing his options. Finally, he releases me and begins his retreat, before raising his hands in mock surrender. As he turns to leave, the last remnants of his hold over me dissolve.

Only after Matt gets into what must be a rental car and drives away does Travis turn to me, his expression softening with concern. “Are you okay?”

I nod, rubbing my arm where Matt had grabbed me. “I will be.”

“You did good, sweetheart,” he says softly. “You stood up to him. That takes guts.”

His words, simple as they are, fill me with a sense of pride and strength I haven’t felt in years. I stood my ground with Matt for myself, not for anyone else’s approval. And that realization? It feels like the first breath of fresh air after being underwater for too long.

I glance up at Travis, really look at him, and see not just the wealthy rancher or the brooding cowboy, but a man who genuinely cares about me. “Thank you,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “For being here, for standing up for me. Andmost especially, for not standing in front of me until it became necessary.”

Travis shakes his head. “You don’t need to thank me for that. Ever.”

Now that the entertainment for the evening is over, a rush of adrenaline leaves me shaky. I retrieve my purse from the truck and fumble for my phone, suddenly wanting to check it. As I scroll through the notifications, my stomach drops. Missed calls and frantic texts from Mom flood the screen.

“Shit,” I mutter, my hands trembling as I scan the messages.

Travis leans closer. “What’s wrong?”

I swallow roughly, trying to keep my voice steady. “I wondered how he found me. He contacted my mother, demanding to know where I work and live. She must have told him. That’s probably why she came, but she didn’t say anything.”

Travis’s jaw hardens, his hands balling into fists at his sides. The fury in his eyes is barely containable, like a volcano on the brink of eruption. His voice is low and controlled, but I can hear the rage. “That son of a bitch.” I watch as he takes a deep breath, his broad shoulders rising and falling with the effort to calm himself. When he speaks again, his voice is resolute. “First, you should call your mother and make sure she’s okay. Although, I’m pissed she didn’t warn you. Then, we need to talk.”

He’s right. We do need to talk, and while I’m bracing myself for whatever is coming next, I dial my mother’s number, for once relieved to hear her voice.

Travis waits quietly by the side of his truck while I talk to her, but I don’t miss the alertness in his stance or the way he looks up and down the street.

“Please, Mom, don’t accept any calls from Matt again. I don’t want him showing up here anymore. I just want to move on with my life.”

“I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t realize he’d race to Cupid’s Creek to get you back.”

“He doesn’t want me back, Mom. He was drunk and a total asshole. Please believe me when I tell you, he’s no good. No for me or any woman for that matter. Just ignore him. Please.”

We say our goodbyes, and I tuck my phone back into my purse.

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