Page 21 of Sanction

I walk towards his bike. “I’m fine.”

He moves quickly, slipping in front of me. “Look at me Daniella.”

I muster up all my strength and look up at those painfully beautiful blue eyes.

“Did he hurt you?” His hand reaches up to touch my chin.

I try to keep my tears at bay. “He kicked me out of his car when I wouldn’t snort his drugs.”

He tugs me into his chest and wraps his strong arms around me. His chin rests on my hair as he mutters to himself.

“Can you take me home?” I ask as I bury my face in his shirt.

“Yeah. I'll take you home, but I need to make a quick stop.”

I shift in his arms, glancing up at him. “Travis...” I give him a look.

“Get on,” he orders.

“Please just let it…”

“I know you are not about to tell me to let it go Daniella.” His eyes narrow on me, daring me to challenge him.

He’s on the bike, cranking the engine impatiently. With a sigh, I climb on. The tires spin as we take off towards town and I have a pretty good idea where he’s going and it’s not home.

When we roll to a stop, I let out a dry laugh. We are parked in front of Rex’s house. The guy I was with.

“Of course, you know where he lives,” I mutter under my breath.

“Stay here,” Travis says over his shoulder as he climbs off.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” I call out after him.

Travis calmly knocks on the front door and when I see Rex step out onto the porch, I hold my breath. Travis’ arms shoot out, gripping Rex by the collar and pinning him to the exterior wall of the house. I can’t hear him, but I can tell Travis is talking in a low voice. I’m about to shout his name, when his fist violently bashes into Rex’s jaw. He hits him again, and again, even after he falls limp onto the floor.

I jump off the bike, rushing to the porch. “Travis! Please!” I shout.

Breath heaving, Travis freezes mid punch.

“I thought I told you to stay on the bike.” His voice is calm and casual like this is any normal conversation. Like there isn’t blood coating his knuckles or the wooden slats of the porch.

“He’s not worth it,” I whisper.

He finally looks up at me. “But you are.”

Reaching down, he grabs Rex’s T-shirt, who is now barely conscious.

“You every touch her again, you will be leaving in a body bag. That’s a promise.” Travis threatens before he stands from the porch.

He takes my hand as he brushes past me, yanking me along the cracked sidewalk and back to his bike.

Now I’m not sure if I’m terrified, or turned on.

We pull up to the clubhouse close to 3:45 in the morning. Most of the lights are out and it’s quiet. Travis helps me off the bike and we quietly make our way upstairs.

“You need to clean those cuts. Come on,” he whispers in my ear and leads me by the hand to his room. He has a bathroom attached to his bedroom, so he brings me inside to search for his first aid kit.

“Found it,” he says as he pulls it from the cabinet.

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