Page 99 of Fashionista's Playbook

I wasn’t about to let Ward, Vincent, or Tatum have the satisfaction of seeing me fall apart, of watching as everything I’d ever wanted slipped away.

I should have run the moment I met Travis Madera.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Travis

Watching Moriah walk away ripped at my soul. The urge to chase her was strong, it tugged me forward and I took two steps after her. But her sister was there already, sniveling at her heels.

I’d never seen her blue eyes so cold and broken, she didn’t want me to follow her—not yet. Causing a bigger scene for Moriah wasn’t happening.

All around me was chaos. And as the pieces clicked into place, anger replaced any left-over feelings of victory. I snarled down at Ward, and fisted my hands really tight to keep from swinging.

“Travis!” My brother shouted, struggling as several beefy security guys dragged him through a set of double doors on the opposite side of the lobby.

Damn it, Vin.

Vin had done what I’d wanted to do, once again taking the punishment that should have been mine.

“Did you hear me, Madera? I’ll sue the shit out of you and your brother.”

I turned and waved a hand in a large circle, before tossing him the thousand-dollar silk handkerchief from my pocket and sneering in disgust. “Wipe your face and go home. You look like shit.”

Guys like Ward picked on smaller, weaker people. I didn’t need to be here to know he’d had a hard on for Moriah. I should have taken more precautions to keep him away. This was in part, my fault.

This was another in a long ass list of infractions that violated the team’s personal code of conduct—and took away from what we were building here. I should have said something to CoachCaley and Linc myself. I could have prevented this, kept that look from her eyes.

Ward wasn’t Texas Outlaws material. Hell, he wasn’t worth the spit to clean my cleats.

The jersey chasing crew had scattered, leaving the floor littered with confetti and pink, plastic pig noses. My gut twisted. Moriah had seen that; they’d done it to hurt her. Sickness gnawed away at me, forcing me to clench my jaw and swallow back bile. Moriah was everything to me and I’d been helpless as they hurt her.

Ward stood, wiped at his face, and sneered.

I grinned in response. Only one of us was going to the big game after this, only one of us would be suiting up in San Antonio next year.

“Wanna go that route? If so, I’m gonna earn it.” I stepped closer, using my height to tower over him the way he did those he saw as weaker. I was so close I could smell the metallic tang of the blood running from the nose he held. “And I’ll do more than break your goddamn nose.” I left Ward standing there, clutching his face and muttering incoherently, like the little bitch he was.

All it would take to get Vin away from security was a phone call from Linc. I didn’t hurry to him as he shouted from the other hallway. I thought of Moriah, the look on her face. She’d said this was Vin, but when I walked in Vin had swung on Ward. What I was seeing and what she was saying weren’t completely in line.

The urgency to get the fuck out of here and to Moriah was so strong I almost left Vin spouting off to the security guys.

“Travis! This shit’s dumb as hell. He had his hands on your woman, I did this for you.” He snorted. “Fake ass, wanna be cops. Can’t even get a real job, carry a gun. Rent a cop ass shit.”

“You want real cops, buddy? I’ll call them and have them take those cuffs off at the jail.” This guy had popcorn muscles; he wouldn’t last ten seconds with real danger or as a real cop.

I glanced at Vin, who was still bouncing on the bench. He tossed his eyes to the ceiling, whispered under his breath, then glared at me. “I did this shit for you, bro.”

The longer I stood here, the farther away Moriah got.

When Vin continued to argue with security, I shot him a shut the hell up look and texted Linc.

“Can we help you, Mr. Madera?” A beefy, baby-faced security guard stepped into the hall. His eyes were wide. From meeting me or the excitement between Vin and Ward, I couldn’t tell.

“Yeah.” I nodded, as the phone in the security office rang. “Answer that.”

Several seconds and one short phone call later, they were lifting Vin off the couch and uncuffing him.

“Sorry about all that, Mr. Madera.” Babyface stammered and shook my hand. “Congrats on the win.”

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