Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 42332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
Maren was fighting like hell against a man who was dragging her backward by the wrist. The sleeve of her uniform was torn, one of her shoes was missing, and her eyes were wild with panic as she tried to wrench away from him. But the man didn’t stop marching toward the waiting black SUV with its back doors wide open.
It was the same bastard I’d seen her serve that first night. The one who stared too long. Who masked his interest in a bland expression so forgettable it was calculated.
I saw all of this in a blink.
My vision went red.
I didn’t even feel myself dismount as my hand reached for my gun.
My boots hit the ground before the engine finished rumbling. I moved fast—silent, efficient, and locked in on my target. My brain cataloged every detail without slowing me down: the angle of his arm, her body twisted in resistance, and the placement of the SUV behind him. My fingers closed around the grip of my pistol, pulled from the inside of my cut in a smooth draw, my finger already sliding into the trigger guard.
The asshole didn’t see me until I was on him.
He got the first shot off, but it went wild since he was trying to keep his grip on Maren and hold his gun steady at the same time. Mine came a half second later.
One round to the shoulder. It spun him, the force of the impact jolting him sideways and sending Maren sprawling to the pavement. She hit hard—her hands spread out instinctively, and her palms scraped raw from the rough blacktop. But she was free.
“You good?” I asked her, keeping my eyes and gun trained on the whimpering asshole.
“Yeah,” she breathed.
Her reassurance gave me the ability to focus my mind on the motherfuckers who’d tried to take my woman from me.
The driver’s side door opened, and the man in the seat tried to scramble out of the car.
“Wait your turn, asshole,” I snapped, keeping my eyes on the man who’d touched Maren as I put a bullet in the driver’s leg to take him down before training my weapon back on the would-be kidnapper.
“Sorry for the interruption.” My next shot went through his thigh, and he dropped like a sack of bricks. I was already on him by the time his knees hit the dirt. He screamed like a fucking pussy, but I didn’t mind. It told me he felt every ounce of the pain I was inflicting.
I kicked the gun from his hand before he could even think about lifting it. Then I gripped the front of his shirt, hauled him up just enough to drive my fist into his jaw and again into his gut. The wet retch of breath leaving his lungs followed the sharp crack of cartilage.
“You touched the wrong woman.” I grabbed a fistful of his collar and slammed him face-first into the rear quarter panel of the SUV. He groaned, spit trailing down his chin. “Now I’m gonna break you for it.”
He didn’t get the chance to respond.
I shoved him to the ground and drove my boot into his ribs, sending him sprawling. Then I finished with a hard, controlled strike to the temple with the butt of my gun, leaving him still.
“Now, it’s your turn,” I grunted in a condescending tone as I walked toward the driver, who was trying to crawl back into the SUV.
I’d just reached him when he fell to his ass on the ground and raised a pistol that he must have retrieved from the vehicle. I cracked his wrist sideways with the barrel of my gun. His weapon clattered to the pavement, and my elbow crashed into the side of his neck, driving him back against the side of the car. He reached for the door, probably to hoist himself to his feet, but I grabbed his wrist, twisted it behind his back, and hauled him to his feet.
“Your exit strategy sucked. No backup. No surveillance. Just a bullet and a body bag with your name on it.” Then I smashed his face into the window until it spiderwebbed with a sharp crack. I threw him to the dirt like the garbage he was and turned on the balls of my feet, my chest heaving and blood in my mouth from where I’d bitten the inside of my cheek.
My heart was racing, and my body burned with the aftershock of adrenaline. But I couldn’t look at Maren until I checked on Jace.
I knelt at his side and tried to take a look at the wound. It wasn’t something a little field medicine would take care of. The bullet was still in there, and he was gonna need surgery.
“Texted,” he huffed, then squeezed his eyes shut, his face twisted in pain. “Medic. Clean up.”