Page 3 of Big Hefty Trucker

The guy has a gun.

I act instantly, instinct taking over as I spring forward. The hot coffee in my hand provides the perfect distraction as I throw it at the gunman’s head. Scalding hot splashes onto his face and hands and sinks into his clothes, and he screams and swears as his guard drops. I surge forward, wrapping a hand around the wrist of his gun hand while throwing all of my weight into a punch to his face. I feel something crunch as my fist meets his head. The force knocks him back and loosens his grip on the gun, which means I can wrest it from his hands. Another thrown elbow and the man falls to the floor, face bleeding and starting to swell.

I plant a booted foot on his chest and apply pressure. He groans and wheezes underneath me, but doesn’t say anything. He’s so dazed that he doesn’t even react when I point the muzzle of his own gun down at him.

I’m not usually thankful for my size. I’m a big dude but it’s just a part of my life, rather than something I think about. But as I stare down at this ugly piece of shit, I’m suddenly thankful that I’ve got probably seventy-five pounds on him. I could break his ribs just by stepping on him. For a moment, I think about doing it, just to prove that I can. Breaking a man’s ribs for threatening my woman? It seems more than fair.

I look up at the pretty little woman standing behind the register, her eyes wide with awe and relief. I look her up and down. No bleeding. No bullet holes. I mean, I would have heard it if he’d shot her, but I can’t help the urge to make sure she’s unharmed. I take care of what’s mine.

Fuck.

We don’t even know each other. I’m just a random person that happened to be in the right place at the right time and stepped in. She’s not mine, so why did I just call her that?

I push the thought away. There are more important things to worry about right now.

“Call 911. Tell them there’s been an armed altercation,” I say to her.

She nods and scrambles to the store phone on the wall behind her, picking up the receiver with shaking hands as she punches in 911. As she gives information to the dispatcher on the other side of the line, she keeps looking at me, those soft, bright eyes of hers lingering on me more than once.

The feeling of them on my body makes it heat. Maybe before this she wouldn’t have given me a second look, but she’s looking now, that’s for sure. She sees someone who stood up for her, someone who can protect her from the things that can threaten or endanger her. It’s all I can do to keep my head on straight. I have to focus, at least until law enforcement gets here.

This shit isn’t done until the scum under my boot is in cuffs and behind bars. After that, we can look at each other all we want.

Chapter 3

Kat

It’s all I can do to keep myself together when law enforcement finally shows up.

The tense minutes spent waiting for them passed by at a snail’s pace, but when I try to think about them, they’re a blur. All I remember is the watchful gaze of my rescuer, his intense, dark eyes practically boring into me as he held down the attacker like he was nothing.

Even now, as I watch a police officer cuff the gunman and haul him up from the floor, I can feel his eyes on me. I’m not sure if it’s because of the adrenaline or his gaze, but I’m trembling as I fidget in my spot.

What am I supposed to do with my evening now? Am I going to be expected to keep working? Do I need to call my manager? Where’s my still-missing coworker, Jim? Is he hurt?

Before I can wonder any further, I look up to see Jim, standing in the doorway to the store, his face pale with shock as he looks around at the chaos. A cop gives him a sideways look as he starts asking the man who rescued me questions.

“What the hell happened?” Jim cries as he rushes into the store.

My rescuer bristles as my coworker gets close to me, and he steps in his path. “Who the fuck are you?” he demands.

If possible, Jim looks even more pale now, standing in the shadow of the huge, handsome stranger. “I-I work here.”

“Where were you?” my rescuer spits at him. Jim stands stock-still, silent as the grave. I’m not sure he’s breathing. Not even the cops around are stepping in to stop the yelling. “Do you make a habit of disappearing like that? If I hadn’t been here, she could have been hurt.”

Jim’s eyes flit to me, but before he can say anything, I say, “I’m fine.” My voice is shaking, but I can’t make it stop. “You should probably call management.”

My coworker nods as he inches away from my knight in shining armor, only to be stopped by a cop with questions. They walk out back into the cool evening air, leaving me with the stranger and a few other officers.

My knees feel weak, my legs like jelly. Goodness, I just want to sit down. Maybe cry.

Before I can think about it further, I feel a hand at the small of my back. When I look up, all I see is that intense look again as the handsome stranger stares down at me.

“Are you alright?” he asks softly. His hand is warm and gentle against me, and it’s all I can do not to lean into the touch, into the warmth of his body as he stands close by.

I make myself nod up at him instead, but he gives me a rueful smile.

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