As for him, Brendon didn’t want action. He wanted Cheyenne to walk out that door completely unharmed. Then, and only then, when he could get her safely out of the way, would he go in and introduce himself to this asshole. Fist-first.
“What do I want?” Victor’s tone reflected the guy’s instability. He wasn’t as calm as Brendon would’ve liked. “I want you to remember the promises you made me. And I think we’ll just sit here until that happens.”
“Promises?” Cheyenne asked, sounding both confused and pissed. “I don’t—”
Cheyenne’s words were cut off by the sound of a loud crack, and Brendon’s entire body went rigid.
If that motherfucker disturbed one single hair on her head, he was a dead man.
Holding his breath, waiting for Z to go in there and save the fucking day, Brendon tamped down the killing rage. Moving closer to the window over the sink, Brendon glanced inside. He couldn’t see Victor, but he could see Cheyenne.
Son of a bitch!
She was holding her face as though she’d been struck.
If Z didn’t do something right quick, Brendon wasn’t going to make any promises on his ability to be a bystander for much longer. He trusted Z, knew the guy would get Cheyenne out of this safely, but he hated standing around with his thumb up his ass. From the outside looking in, Brendon felt as though he was in a bad cop drama, only there weren’t many cops involved. Yet.
“What the hell did you hit me for?” Cheyenne exclaimed.
Brendon’s heart slammed against his ribs, fear mixing with amusement because he could tell his little hellcat wasn’t too happy about being manhandled. His respect for her grew even more. God, he loved this woman.
But he really hoped she wouldn’t attempt to piss off the loose cannon any more.
“I told you … I want you to remember the promises you made me. And I want you to tell me what they are.”
“Why don’t we quit playin’ games, Victor. Just tell me what it is you’re after. We can figure it out from there. But I never was good at guessing games, so if you expect me to figure out what happened between us three freaking years ago, I’m afraid we’ll be waitin’ a while.”
“You think you’re cute, don’t you? You and the whole goddamn world think the West Texas Princess is so fucking adorable. What about me? I was supposed to be right there with you, Cheyenne. Or have you forgotten that? I was supposed to move up in the world.”
“Is that what this is about? You’re pissed because I didn’t launch you into stardom?”
Brendon wished he could see Victor’s face. Cheyenne’s incredulity was palpable, even from where he stood outside the house.
“You and I both know that you promised me—”
A knock on the front door halted Victor midsentence.
Shit.
Brendon’s heart jumped into his throat, his lungs ceased to fill.
There was only one person that could be. Not only was it a distraction for Victor, it was a signal for Z.
Oh, and of course it was another heart-stopper for Brendon.
chapter TWENTY-NINE
Cheyenne’s eyes snapped toward the front door at the same time Victor’s entire body swung around to face the potential threat.
That was the moment Cheyenne caught Z moving out of the corner of her eye. She managed to clamp her lips shut to keep from freaking out, not wanting to alert Victor to the shift in control that had just taken place. Even if he was too stupid to realize.
For a guy who’d gone through incredible lengths to threaten her and then finally track her down, the ending seemed somewhat of a letdown.
Not that she was complaining. Nope, not at all.
Victor’s gun was still on the table, but he was at least five or six feet away while Z … well, Z was clearly prepared. He had his gun—she had absolutely no idea what kind of gun it was because she didn’t know a damn thing about those things—pointed directly at Victor.
“Put your hands in the air where I can see them,” Z ordered, his deep baritone rough enough to make the hair on Cheyenne’s arms stand on end. This guy wasn’t messing around.
Victor spun around again and that was when the front door crashed in.
Cheyenne turned her attention to Victor, who was seething as he stared at Z in disbelief.
Z nodded to the gun on the table and RT walked over and retrieved it.
“Fuck,” Victor groaned, lifting his hands in the air.
Sheriff Endsley walked in a moment later, followed by Brendon. The sheriff marched right over to Victor, pulling out handcuffs as he moved with purpose. But that was the last thing Cheyenne noticed because Brendon’s arms came around her and he pulled her against him, one big hand cradling the back of her head as he held her tight. He was shaking and that—his emotional reaction—was what broke her. The tears got free and Cheyenne fell apart in his arms, the relief that it was all over weakening her legs.