The Navy SEAL's Rescue

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The Navy SEAL's Rescue Page 15

by Jo Leigh


  After making sure his cell phone had enough juice in case Skip or Cricket called, he took the chairs off the tables, his thoughts staying on her and Ronny. Vertigo could be a messy problem. He’d known good men that had washed out of the service because of it.

  “Hey, boss.” Viv and Lila walked in together, both of them with energy drinks in hand, but it was Lila who’d spoken. “You been enjoying your time off?”

  “Yep,” he said with a brief nod. “I want to get as much set up as we can before customers start rolling in, and I don’t want to skip the inventory of the bottles that are out. I know some are low and need replacing.”

  “Sure thing,” Viv said. “We’ll just go stash our purses and get to it. I brought an extra Red Bull with me, if you need one.”

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  He finished with the last few tables, took a quick look around to make sure no one had put anything in the potted plants. There was always somebody who stashed a glass or a condom or an empty bottle of beer. Sure enough, there was a martini glass, empty but for a toothpick, behind the fern. Maybe he ought to just buy a bunch of cactus plants.

  The girls started putting away the glasses that had been washed the night before. He left them to it to go in the back and check over the stores he’d marked for reorder. He wouldn’t place the call until they were finished up front, but he already knew the order would be sizeable.

  Something hard tripped up his left foot. A nail that had come up. Easy enough to hammer it down again, but it made him think about Ronny and his double slip at the dock. As soon as possible, he’d go down there with his toolbox, make sure there were no obvious hazards. Technically, the harbormaster was responsible for upkeep and repairs on the actual dock. Ronny only had his slip to worry about. But the dock was already wet and slick by the time the first boats went out, and a mess at the end of the evening. No need to add to the risks.

  By the time he’d gone back up front, Viv was filling the beer tubs with ice, and taking notes as Lila checked bottles. There was room enough for him back there to begin cutting the limes and lemons. It was soothing, hearing the quiet talk, Lila for once not trying to get his attention. Guess some of the others had told her she needed to knock that off. Especially after the gossip-fest about his love life.

  Time slipped past him as he finished enough limes, lemons and pineapple wedges to get them through the night, then put them in containers that would keep them fresh. When he pulled out the cherries, Sabrina walked in.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. “It’s your night...” Her arm had a vivid bruise right above where her sleeve ended. She looked like she might have been crying again, or just hadn’t gotten enough sleep.

  He left the cherries and followed her into the back room. It was three thirty, and still no customers had come in. Sabrina stood at the filing cabinet where the women kept their purses, her body still and hunched.

  “You’re not on the schedule tonight.”

  “I know,” she said without looking at him. “Is it a problem if I work anyway? I don’t want to make everyone mad over tips.”

  “Look, a day off could do you some good, but if you want to stay, you can pour drinks so tips won’t be an issue. In fact, you can run the place.”

  She looked back at him. “You sure?”

  He nodded. “Go ahead, sign in. Then tell me what happened. I’m assuming that was your boyfriend’s handiwork?”

  “He didn’t hit me. Just grabbed me too hard, that’s all.”

  “That’s all,” Wyatt murmured, although he was sure she heard him. “If I ask you to come with me upstairs, would that be all right?”

  “I came here to work, Wyatt. I don’t need another lecture.”

  “I don’t recall ever lecturing you,” he said calmly. “If I did, I apologize.”

  She signed the time sheet, then put her purse in the bottom drawer. Finally she met his gaze. “You didn’t. I’m sorry.”

  “So? Upstairs? It won’t take long.” He waited. “You trust me?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Good. Come on.”

  They went back out to the bar and he asked Viv to take over for about an hour. “Text me if you need me.”

  She nodded. No one questioned it when he led Sabrina outside to the stairs.

  Once he got his door open, Sabrina stepped inside. The place was its usual mess. He remembered the last time the kids had been there, and the havoc they’d wrought, and how he’d had to leave before he could make them pick up. “Sorry.”

  “I think you’re fighting a losing battle with this stuff. The kids like playing here more than your office, or I’m guessing, their own house.”

  “I have no idea why,” he said, tossing Matchstick cars and loose Legos into the toy chest.

  “Probably because it makes you go a little nuts.”

  “That sounds about right. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like us to get the floor clear so I can teach you a few self-defense moves.”

  “Wyatt. I don’t need—”

  “Every woman needs to know what I’m going to teach you. In fact, I’m going to make a point of showing every woman who works here how to defend herself. It’s smart, and nothing too difficult. In this day and age, especially working in a bar? I can’t believe I haven’t done this before.”

  Her hesitation was brief, then she got busy picking up Rose’s things—the dolls, and the tea set that he’d been forced to participate with more times than he cared to remember. When he got to Josh’s Lego in progress, he lifted the whole cardboard platform Wyatt had made for the project, and carefully walked it to the kitchen counter. “Josh has been working on this for a couple weeks. Evidently, this Lego set is for ages five and up, but Josh has been building it all by himself.”

  Sabrina laughed. “Sounds as if you might have heard that once or twice.”

  “Every time he’s here. And sometimes he even calls, just to remind me.”

  “You’re so good with him and Rose.”

  “I’m patient. Have to be.”

  “I guess you want to have your own someday, huh?”

  “What? Me?” He hadn’t thought about it. Not since he’d joined up. “Why would I when I already have two rug rats driving me insane.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second. Not only are you a natural, you’re a total softy.”

  He grunted, unwilling to acknowledge any of it. At all. “Okay, you ready?”

  She wrung her hands together. “I’m not sure.”

  He waved her over. “Stand right here in front of me. This is lesson number one, and it’s straightforward, but the key is to run it over and over in your head. A lot. Like every time you walk out a door. Every time, okay?”

  “Uh, sure?”

  “Now I’m not going to hurt you, so don’t worry about it. This is a simple straight punch. If someone’s in front of you and you can tell they’re a threat, or think they’re a threat, especially if you’ve told them to back off or leave you alone, but they’re still in your face? Push from the ball of your dominant foot and thrust your hip and fist forward at the same time.”

  He demonstrated, and it didn’t surprise him that when he faked the punch she jerked back. Not that he was trying to trick her, but now he knew the degree of fear that asshole had conditioned in her. “That’ll maximize your strength. Now stand next to me, and imagine there’s a guy making an unwanted move. Get ready to use your dominant hand. Don’t put your thumb underneath your other fingers. Just make a fist, take a deep breath, then really drive from the ground and don’t let your elbow flip up. Go on, give it a try.”

  Sabrina seemed nervous, which was normal. She moved her leg and her arm at the same time, anyway. “Good start. Great job. Now, remember to lean your whole body in to follow up with that fist. You’re aiming with your pointer and middle finger knuckles to hit w
hatever you can reach easily. That can be his chest, his face, whatever will give you the most bang for your buck. Now try it again.”

  She did, and this time she brought some heat.

  He moved to stand in front of her, and prepared himself. “Okay, you’re going to hit me now. At your height, you can punch me square in the chest.”

  “I’m not doing that.”

  “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. I do this kind of stuff at the gym.”

  “Don’t they use gloves or something?”

  “You don’t have to use all your might if you’re worried about hurting me. You need to feel what it’s like to strike someone with your fist. I’m assuming you’ve never done that before.”

  She lowered her gaze and shook her head.

  “Okay, trust me. Please. And go for it.”

  If she’d realized how often he’d been smashed in the chest, she wouldn’t have hesitated. When she finally got up the nerve to strike, she did a pretty good job. It hurt, but didn’t cause anything close to real pain. “Excellent. What was it like?”

  “Scary, but also kind of exhilarating?”

  “It’s a hell of a feeling, knowing you can handle yourself. That you’re not at someone’s mercy. Give me five more, as hard as you can.”

  “Wyatt, no.”

  “No, I meant shadowbox. Show me the moves.”

  She started slow. But steady.

  “The more vulnerable the target, the better. Eyes,” he said, walking around her as she practiced. “Also the nose and throat are the most effective and it’ll give you plenty of time to get out of Dodge.”

  After five more, she was huffing, but she looked more alive than she had in a while. “What’s next?”

  He grinned. “This one, you’re not going to try on me, but I’ll let you hit something that won’t be crippled, okay? This is how you do a knee to the groin. We’ll follow that with a kick to the groin. Both have their merits.”

  “Well yeah, I get to kick some douchebag in the nuts.”

  “That’s right. Now, here’s how you want it to look when you’re in a tight spot.” He showed her both the knee and the kick, then went back to the knee, and by the time they were finished, she was sweating, and she looked like she could do some damage.

  “This is really awesome, Wyatt,” she said. “You’re right. Every woman should know this.”

  “You need to take a rest before we go to the next move?” he asked.

  “Nope. What do I get to hurt this time?”

  In the middle of trying out the choke defense, he got a text from Skip, letting him know the boat was in dock and everything was going great. He also offered to take tomorrow’s charter out, only this time with Wendy. Wyatt texted back that he’d check with Cricket, and that for now, he should just clean up the boat.

  By the end of the hour and a half he’d spent with Sabrina, they sat down with a couple of cold waters from his fridge. She was breathing deeply, sweaty but not very concerned about that.

  Finally, after downing most of the water, she looked at him without that small smile she’d worn since her first successful hit. “I’ve been planning to leave him, you know. It’s not easy, though. He’s got a big family, and I don’t have anyone out here, not since my uncle died.”

  “You’ve got me. And everyone who cares about you. You’re family at the bar, got it? And we work with a lot of tigers down there, and real soon each one of them is going to know more about self-defense than Tyson’s whole family put together. If we need to get a restraining order, we will. In fact, you can count on it.”

  Sabrina touched his arm with her chilled fingers. “Thank you for this. It was the push I needed.”

  “Good. Now, you still have the night off if you want it.”

  She frowned. “No, I’d rather work. I feel safer here than anywhere else, and I can use the money.”

  “You want to stay here tonight? I have somewhere I can go, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

  She stood up. “Thanks, but I’ll ask Tiffy if I can stay at her place. There’s a cop that lives next door to her, so it’s real safe there. And working will keep my mind off the asshole.”

  “Your call.” He rose, and held the door for her and she led the way down the stairs, complaining about how sticky she felt.

  They were two steps to the landing when a squeal of tires made them both stop. A second later, Sabrina’s jerk boyfriend threw open the door of his souped-up truck and started screaming before his feet hit the pavement. “What the hell are you doing? You don’t work today. You haven’t answered any of my calls and texts, but I guess you wouldn’t while you were fucking your boss.”

  “Tyson, I didn’t! I wasn’t!”

  “Yeah, I’m really gonna believe that when I know you’re always running to him and crying on his shoulder.” He was racing up the lower steps, his Metallica T-shirt a size too small, his steroid-enhanced muscles almost bursting out of the sleeves.

  Wyatt stepped in front of Sabrina.

  Tyson got right up in his face, trying to intimidate Wyatt with his bulk. He wasn’t worried, but before he did anything, he leaned his head to the side, keeping his eyes on Popeye. “You want me to call the cops?”

  “No. No, don’t. I’ll get him to leave.”

  His face an ugly red and spittle coming out of his foul mouth, Tyson’s glare moved past Wyatt. “I’m not buying the innocent act. You were always a slut, and now you’re a cheating slut.”

  “I suggest you get back into that truck of yours,” Wyatt said, “and get the hell out of here.” He held his temper in check for Sabrina’s sake. It wasn’t easy, though. He wanted to squash the idiot like a cockroach, and he knew just how to do it. But he also knew that Viv, Tiffy and Lila had opened the bar door and were watching them.

  “What, you think I don’t know you screw every one of the girls who works for you? Isn’t that why you opened the bar in the first place? You old pervert, you just like ’em young and once you’re giving them a check, they can’t say no.” Tyson took a step forward.

  With a tap of the side of his hand, Wyatt hit the bastard’s vagus nerve, and he started to go down like a dead tree, howling in pain. Wyatt caught him by the back of his shirt so he wouldn’t go over the railing, ripping a sleeve in the process. That made Wyatt feel a little better, but not enough.

  Tyson recovered quickly, and backed away, so pissed he was trembling.

  “Go on. Get the hell out of here before I really hurt you.”

  Like the true coward he was, Tyson scuttled back to his truck, but the idiot had to make one last comment. Unfortunately for him, it was to Sabrina.

  “You’ll pay for this, bitch. You just wait until I get you home.”

  Without a second thought, Wyatt vaulted over the second-story railing, and was at the truck before Tyson knew what happened. Grabbing him by the ear in one of the most painful maneuvers Wyatt knew, he had the jerk on his knees, Wyatt’s arm at his throat and his mouth close to the ear he could so easily have torn off. “If I see one more mark on Sabrina, or even think I do, I will end you. I don’t give a damn if it’s you that put it there or not. If I find out that you’ve picked another victim, I’ll make sure it’s the last choice you ever make. And trust me, asshole...they’ll never find your body.”

  Wyatt eventually let him go, but only after tears glistened off the big man’s face. He stumbled into the truck and put it in gear, trying to scare Wyatt by aiming the truck at him, but he held his ground in that loser’s game of chicken, and sure enough, Tyson sped off.

  When Wyatt finally looked up, he saw the girls standing on the deck outside the bar. They were staring at him as if he’d grown a third arm.

  He wanted to leave that minute, but he couldn’t. He had to make sure Sabrina was all right, and that she could go to Tiffy’s tonight where Tyson couldn’t get to her.


  It was a long walk up the few steps with adrenaline coursing through his body like an electrical shock. It had been a while since he’d engaged in physical combat, and never before with a civilian. But goddamn it, he wanted that scumbag to remember that Sabrina—or any woman—wasn’t his property.

  As he reached the bar level, he realized Sabrina was surrounded by the other three and two longtime customers, both of them from the fishing community. Damn, he wished they hadn’t seen him behaving like a gorilla.

  “What the hell was that?” Tiffy asked. “You were like Superman out there.”

  He scowled at the lot of them. “Don’t you all have work to do? Did you leave any customers inside? With the cash register?”

  “Don’t worry, boss,” Lila said. “No one’s in there. We all came out when we heard the tires squealing. Viv thought it was an accident.”

  “Well, get back to it. Do I need to finish stocking the shelves?” He paused at the entrance and looked back to make sure Tyson wasn’t lurking anywhere. No sign of him, but Wyatt could swear he saw Becky’s car leaving the lot. Damn. He hoped she hadn’t seen any of the altercation, or worse, that the kids hadn’t gotten an eyeful.

  “You need to have a drink and chill,” Sabrina said. “Since I’m taking over for you tonight, I’ll make you one. How about a Kamikaze?”

  He couldn’t help acknowledging the humor, glad Sabrina was standing tall. “I don’t need to chill.”

  “I think you should go find your girlfriend,” Viv said, following him inside. “I bet she’d be hella impressed.”

  He shook his head. “Look, that wasn’t something for me to be proud of. Yes, I’m glad I have the skills to defend someone I care about. But ideally, I hope I never have to use them again. I did what had to be done to protect Sabrina. The end.”

  Tiff nodded, then threw her arms around his neck and gave him a hug. “Thanks for all you do for us,” she said, her voice low and sincere. “We all appreciate you.”

  He patted her back, and got out of the hug as quickly as possible. “Yeah, yeah. Now let’s get cracking and give these two a drink on the house,” he said, nodding at the customers.

 

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