All I Never Had

Chapter Ten

Wes ~

Seeing the red angry flesh of Gracie's arm where Colt had viciously wrenched and twisted it caused something inside me to snap. My eyes were glued to the soft skin of her wrist and arm as I manipulated it in my hand, turning it over and studying it to see if he had broken bone.

I can't believe he put his fucking hands on her.

I could feel the anger radiating off my face and upper body that was still flexed and strained, trying to maintain control of the absolute rage that was threatening to take over my entire body. The sight of Gracie's small arm being twisted and contorted, coupled with the complete terror on her face had done something to me, something I couldn't explain but was definitely feeling the effects of.

My heart was pounding against my ribs, and even though I hadn't thrown a single punch, my adrenaline was coursing as if I had just finished the final round of a title match. My hands were wrapped around Gracie's arm, but they itched with need to pummel Colt's flesh and I clenched my back teeth to try and control myself. A deep scowl was the only facial expression I could muster as I realized Gracie's arm was probably going to be covered in deep purple bruises the next morning.

That motherfucker.

I was no stranger to anger and rage, and often used it as fuel when I was in the ring, but tonight was different. The fury I felt was more intense and unlike anything I'd ever experienced before which seemed to worsen as my mind started running through different scenarios of Colt harming Gracie.

What if I hadn't been there to stop him? What would he have done to her?

Every scenario that flooded my mind was worse than the last and seemed to fuel the intense and strange emotion that was slowly starting to swallow me whole. The logical side of my mind threw out one word that flashed hot in my brain - Fear.

Is that what this is? What I'm feeling isn't just anger it's...fear?

I shook my head and deepened my scowl at the thought.

Fuck that shit. I'm not scared of Colt.

Internally scoffing at the absurd idea of being afraid of such a coward, I lifted Gracie's arm up into the light trying to get a better look at the way her wrist was situated, trying not to think of how bad her wrist would have looked if I hadn't been there to intervene, when I was hit with sudden moment of clarity.

This strange new feeling was fear, but not fear of Colt. The longer I looked at Gracie's small arm under the bright lights of the hallway the more I realized that I wasn't scared of Colt, I was scared for Gracie and what Colt could have done to her.

No wonder this emotion is so foreign and unfamiliar, I was scared for her.  And I don't get scared.

My thoughts were buzzing, trying to decipher the new emotions that were overwhelming my senses and attempting to control my temper that was bubbling a little too close to the surface. I hadn't even taken the time to notice Gracie's cowered posture and scared eyes, but the second I did, my entire body froze and came to a halt.

Shit Wes, you're scaring her.

Softening my expression instantly, I looked down and reminded her that I'd never hurt her, but it didn't do much good. Her pupils were still dilated and she was shaking slightly from all of the adrenaline, which I knew all too well made rational thinking a little more hazy and difficult. It didn't help that I had been moving and manipulating her small arm in my massive hands without her consent after she had just been man-handled by that asshole.