Page 43 of Keeping Guard
Noah stopped inches from the man’s back. “You touch her one more time, and I’m going to show you how it feels to have a fist in your face.”
The man spun, and Peyton slapped her hand over her heart when she saw the rage in the man’s eyes. She searched around for a cop, but there wasn’t one in sight. Why hadn’t she brought her phone so she could call the police? Knowing it would distract him, she bit down on her bottom lip to keep from calling out to Noah.
“You need to mind your own business, dude,” the man said.
“I’m making it my business, asshole.” He glanced at the woman cowering against the wall. “Does it make you feel manly to pick on a woman half your size?”
Why was Noah taunting him? The man was bigger, and his arms bulged with muscles. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from Noah. He stood as still as a statue, as if a huge woman beater wasn’t worth the blink of an eye. Never had she seen a man so deadly calm, yet so menacing. She was looking at a warrior, a man trained to conquer his enemy.
Her worry for him eased. Did the man not get that Noah was daring him to come at him? She still wished a cop was around to put a stop to this madness, but she knew in her heart that Noah wasn’t someone to be messed with. Unfortunately, the horrible man didn’t seem to grasp that. He grinned as he fisted his hands.
Even though she believed Noah could win the fight, she still worried that the man could get lucky. When the man lunged at Noah, Lucky growled and jerked the leash out of her hand. The dog raced down the alley with his teeth bared. Before she could call him back, Noah had the man on his back. It happened so fast that even though she was watching, she couldn’t say how he’d done it.
Lucky had his mouth clamped around the man’s ankle. “Get him off me.” The man kicked his free leg at the dog.
“Don’t hurt him,” the woman screamed.
Really? She was worried about the jerk after he’d hit her? Peyton ran down the alley. She grabbed the end of the leash and pulled. “Lucky, come here, boy.” The dog gave one last shake of the man’s ankle before letting go and coming to her. He sat next to her feet, still growling as he kept his gaze focused on the man.
“Baby, are you okay?” the woman said, kneeling near the man’s head.
“What’s wrong with you?” Peyton wanted to shake some sense into her. “He was beating you, and you’re worried about him? Your lip is bleeding, and you’re going to have a black eye. You should be calling the police and sending him to jail.”
“She’s right,” Noah said, stepping away from the couple. “He’ll do it again. Probably wasn’t the first time he’s hit you, right?”
The woman glared at him. “Go to hell.”
“You should be thanking him,” Peyton said. “He saved—”
“Save your breath, princess.” Noah wrapped his hand around her elbow. “Let’s go.”
There was no emotion in his voice, and his face was blank. It was as if he’d completely shut down.
At the end of the alley, she glanced back. “Shouldn’t we call the police or something?”
“No.”
She lengthened her stride to keep up with him. “But what if he hits her again?”
“He will.”
“Then we shouldn’t leave her with him.”
“What do you think we should do? Kidnap her? Drag her away against her will?”
“I think we should call the police.” He stopped so suddenly that she was several steps ahead of him before she realized he wasn’t next to her. She faced him, and where before his face had been a blank slate, he now looked tortured.
“We could do that, but she’ll bail him out as soon as they let her. Then he’s going to be even angrier, blaming her for the reason he had to spend the night in jail. She’ll pay for that at his hands, but she’ll blame herself and forgive him.” He started walking again.
It struck her then why his expression looked so tortured. She caught up with him. “Was that how it was for your mother?” she softly said.
“Until the day he killed her.”
“Noah.” Her heart broke for the boy who’d lost his mother at the hands of a man who should have loved and protected them both.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Feel sad for you? Wish it hadn’t happened?” She knew he wanted her to shut up, but she couldn’t. Her heart hurt for him, and she didn’t know how to pretend it didn’t. She slipped her hand in his, and for a few seconds he didn’t respond, then his fingers tightened around hers. “My father keeps a distance between us, but he’s never laid a hand on me, or anyone for that matter. I can’t imagine what it does to a child to see the man who’s supposed to love his mother hurt her.”
