yank my arm from his grasp but he was too strong. “Let me go!” I screamed as panic crawled up my throat. Tears burned my eyes. I pulled my arm again and this time I managed to get him to let go, but I went falling from my seat in the process and landed on the ground, smacking the side of my face sharply against the concrete floor.
“Olivia!” I heard Trace yell, his voice echoing around the whole bar as he yelled into the microphone. I’d been so preoccupied with Mr. Touchy Feely that I hadn’t seen him come out on stage.
Before I had a chance to move, Trace’s familiar scent surrounded me, and his large hands were on my body picking me up.
“Olivia,” he whispered, looking me over. “You’re bleeding.”
I reached up and felt around my eye. My fingers came away with a small smearing of blood. “It’s not that bad,” I shrugged.
His jaw was clenched tight and his eyes screamed murder. “You’re hurt .” He shoved me behind him and glared at Mr. Touchy Feely who was still sitting in his former seat.
“I didn’t do anything,” he held his hands up in surrender. “She just fell.”
“She didn’t just fall ,” Trace seethed. “You grabbed her arm and you wouldn’t let go. When a girls says no, it means no! ” Suddenly, he was reaching out and grabbing the guy by the shirt collar and lifting him out of the chair.
Holy shit, I knew Trace was strong, but this guy was double his size and built like a linebacker.
“Dude, let me go,” Mr. Touchy Feely tried to pry Trace’s hands off of him, but it was pointless. Trace was in a rage and there was no stopping him. “I wasn’t gonna hurt her.”
“I don’t care what your intentions were,” Trace growled, right up in the guy’s face as he shoved him into a wall. “When a girl tells you to let her go, guess what? You let her go! ” He shook the guy forcefully.
I hadn’t seen Trace get this angry in a long time…not since Aaron attacked me. Trace was an easygoing guy and it took a lot to get him riled.
“Trace,” I whispered, placing my hand on his taut arm. “I’m okay.”
Slowly, he turned his head towards me, and some of the anger drained out of him. He released the guy, but not before giving him a hard enough shove that he went sprawling to the ground. The guy looked up in disbelief. For a second I thought he might attack Trace but instead he chose to pick himself up and walk away. I guess he wasn’t as dumb as he looked.
“Stay here,” Trace growled, bowing his head as he walked away. The brim of the fedora hid his gaze from me and I chewed my lip nervously.
Within seconds he was back, his guitar case slung over his shoulder. “We’re leaving,” he took my hand and practically dragged me out of the building.
People stared as we passed, the blue lights in the bar making them look strange—almost alien.
We drove back to the motel in silence, his grip so tight on the steering wheel that his knuckles turned white, and his jaw was clenched. I wanted to say something, but I figured silence was better.
He opened the motel door, letting me in first. I sat on the edge of the bed, nervously fiddling with the edge of my tank top. “Trace—”
“I’ll be back,” he said in a steely tone, slamming the door closed behind him as he left. I jumped at the noise.
My bottom lip trembled with the threat of tears, but I wouldn’t cry. I couldn’t .
Frustrated, I tore off my clothes and changed into pajamas.
I climbed under the itchy covers; eyes wide open.
Let him leave.
I didn’t care.
Honestly, I didn’t.
Okay, I did.
And that’s why it hurt.
“Baby, wake up. Wake up,” someone shook my shoulders. But I didn’t want to wake up. I’d been dreaming and it had been so good. “Olivia, wake up. I need to see your face. Come on. That’s my girl.”
My eyes opened to see Trace smiling down at me.
Why the heck was the jerk smiling at me when he’d left me in a rage?
I scooted away from him, my brows furrowing
“Olivia!” I heard Trace yell, his voice echoing around the whole bar as he yelled into the microphone. I’d been so preoccupied with Mr. Touchy Feely that I hadn’t seen him come out on stage.
Before I had a chance to move, Trace’s familiar scent surrounded me, and his large hands were on my body picking me up.
“Olivia,” he whispered, looking me over. “You’re bleeding.”
I reached up and felt around my eye. My fingers came away with a small smearing of blood. “It’s not that bad,” I shrugged.
His jaw was clenched tight and his eyes screamed murder. “You’re hurt .” He shoved me behind him and glared at Mr. Touchy Feely who was still sitting in his former seat.
“I didn’t do anything,” he held his hands up in surrender. “She just fell.”
“She didn’t just fall ,” Trace seethed. “You grabbed her arm and you wouldn’t let go. When a girls says no, it means no! ” Suddenly, he was reaching out and grabbing the guy by the shirt collar and lifting him out of the chair.
Holy shit, I knew Trace was strong, but this guy was double his size and built like a linebacker.
“Dude, let me go,” Mr. Touchy Feely tried to pry Trace’s hands off of him, but it was pointless. Trace was in a rage and there was no stopping him. “I wasn’t gonna hurt her.”
“I don’t care what your intentions were,” Trace growled, right up in the guy’s face as he shoved him into a wall. “When a girl tells you to let her go, guess what? You let her go! ” He shook the guy forcefully.
I hadn’t seen Trace get this angry in a long time…not since Aaron attacked me. Trace was an easygoing guy and it took a lot to get him riled.
“Trace,” I whispered, placing my hand on his taut arm. “I’m okay.”
Slowly, he turned his head towards me, and some of the anger drained out of him. He released the guy, but not before giving him a hard enough shove that he went sprawling to the ground. The guy looked up in disbelief. For a second I thought he might attack Trace but instead he chose to pick himself up and walk away. I guess he wasn’t as dumb as he looked.
“Stay here,” Trace growled, bowing his head as he walked away. The brim of the fedora hid his gaze from me and I chewed my lip nervously.
Within seconds he was back, his guitar case slung over his shoulder. “We’re leaving,” he took my hand and practically dragged me out of the building.
People stared as we passed, the blue lights in the bar making them look strange—almost alien.
We drove back to the motel in silence, his grip so tight on the steering wheel that his knuckles turned white, and his jaw was clenched. I wanted to say something, but I figured silence was better.
He opened the motel door, letting me in first. I sat on the edge of the bed, nervously fiddling with the edge of my tank top. “Trace—”
“I’ll be back,” he said in a steely tone, slamming the door closed behind him as he left. I jumped at the noise.
My bottom lip trembled with the threat of tears, but I wouldn’t cry. I couldn’t .
Frustrated, I tore off my clothes and changed into pajamas.
I climbed under the itchy covers; eyes wide open.
Let him leave.
I didn’t care.
Honestly, I didn’t.
Okay, I did.
And that’s why it hurt.
“Baby, wake up. Wake up,” someone shook my shoulders. But I didn’t want to wake up. I’d been dreaming and it had been so good. “Olivia, wake up. I need to see your face. Come on. That’s my girl.”
My eyes opened to see Trace smiling down at me.
Why the heck was the jerk smiling at me when he’d left me in a rage?
I scooted away from him, my brows furrowing
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