The diner froze the moment the slap rang out.
Travis Boit, the town bully everyone feared, had just struck seventy-eight-year-old Marta, sending her sliding across the floor. Cups rattled, coffee spilled, and a child stifled a scream. Silence fell over the room. Everyone knew better than to intervene—except one man.
Javier Hale walked in, worn hoodie, dusty boots, and his Belgian Malinois, Titan, at his side. Fresh off a classified mission, Javier had only planned a quiet breakfast with his mother. Instead, he walked into the heart of the storm.
He saw the abuse, felt the tension, and stayed calm—the kind of calm that made the air heavier, the kind of calm that commands attention. “Mom,” he said quietly.
Travis laughed. “Old hag brought reinforcements.”
But this wasn’t just a son protecting his mother. Javier was a Navy SEAL. Titan wasn’t a pet—it was a precision-trained K-9 ready to act on instinct and command.
“Apologize to my mother,” Javier said.
Travis scoffed, chest puffed, fist ready. But every move Javier made was surgical. A twist of the wrist, a crack under the fluorescent lights, and Travis dropped to his knees, pain and fear finally taking the place of arrogance. Titan’s growl kept him rooted.
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