Breaking Travis (The West Series Book 5) Read Online Free Page B

couldn’t help but wonder what he was going through.
     

     
    Travis set down the guitar case on the countertop and looked around the large kitchen. What was he going to do? He was stuck here with no access to his money until his father’s projects were done. Why was the old man punishing him? They had always gotten along great. He supposed it was because he had taken off after his mom was arrested.
    He sat on a bar stool and looked off towards the stove. He could still picture his mother there, making her fried chicken or baking a pie. He closed his eyes. Why had she betrayed them?
    Insanity. Did it run in the family? That was a question he’d been asking himself for the last four years. He’d done everything he could to prove to himself that he wasn’t crazy, but in the end he thought that everything he’d done had taken him one step closer to it.
    Then an image of Holly came to his mind. She hadn’t looked at him like he was crazy for wanting to sell his grandfather’s guitar. What he’d seen in her eyes was sadness and understanding. He didn’t know why, but he was finding it harder and harder to be around her. Maybe it was because he knew that she’d had a special bond with his father before he’d died. Or maybe it was because she was a tight little sexy package that annoyed him every time she opened her mouth. He’d even thought about kissing her to shut her up, but thankfully he’d come to his senses before that had happened.
    He’d learned to put aside his desires in the last few years. He looked down at his fists and frowned. How many times had he used his hands to try and focus his body and mind? To convince himself that he was something more than a crazy woman’s son? He’d finally learned to discipline his body and his mind. So much so that he’d almost forgotten what it was like to be with a woman or to take something he wanted.
    Just then his cell phone rang. When he looked down at the number, he sighed. He had known his agent wouldn’t wait too long. Not even his father’s death could suspend his obligations.
    “Hey, Randy.” He rubbed his forehead and thought about the headache that was growing.
    “Travis, my man. Where are you at?” Randy always had a way of getting to the point.
    “I’m still at home. I have a few loose ends I have to tie up.”
    “Oh, man, that doesn’t really work for me. I need you back in Vegas next week. Tuesday night we have a rematch with Steve Cann. Listen, I have it all set up. You’ve got a room at—”
    “Sorry, Randy, I won’t be able to make it.” He closed his eyes, knowing what was coming next.
    “Man, I understand. It’s just a shame, you know, after all I’ve done for you. Well, if you’ll just send me the money you owe me, then we can part ways.” Travis knew the old drill. There was no way Randy would ever let him go. Not really.
    “I don’t have it yet. My old man has me jumping through a few hoops before I can get to the cash. I can pay you off in a few months.”
    “Travis, you have until Monday to either show up in Vegas or wire me the money.” Randy hung up and Travis knew he was screwed.
    He felt like throwing his phone. He looked across the room at his grandfather’s guitar. Pawning it would only get him a few hundred dollars and a broken heart, knowing something so valuable to him was gone. What he needed was a few thousand dollars, and he had no idea how to get it all by Monday. He knew one thing—leaving town wasn’t going to be a possibility, not this soon.
    He felt like punching something. After all, it’s what he’d been doing for therapy for the last four years. He usually felt more leveled after hitting something with his fists. Heading back out to the garage, he pulled out his old punching bag and hung it on the hook on the back porch. Pulling his gloves from his bag, he stripped down to his shorts and started wailing on the bag, trying to come up with a plan.
    An hour later, his fists stung, his muscles