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I yell over to Taz, who is shooting through the broken window.
“What do you need, tornado?” he answers, not looking at me.
My eyes narrow. But then my eyes focus on something that has my brain short-circuiting.
“Why in the fuck are you half-naked? WHERE THE HELL IS YOUR SHIRT?”
He takes another shot and looks over at me like I’m crazy. And, eh, maybe I am. But who in their right mind does a striptease during a gunfight? His eyes shift to the ground next to me, and my brow furrows as I look down.
“Oh!”
He stops firing and hunches his body down enough to remain covered by the car while he makes his way to me. Taz kneels next to me, and I watch him from the corner of my eye. Because hello again, gunfight. With how we were both standing at opposite ends before, I didn’t get the full-on Taz effect, though… Hello, abs. Be still my beating heart. His nipples are pierced. Oh, lawd almighty.
“Let me see it.”
Whiskey, Tango Foxtrot?
Huh?
He bends down, picking up his discarded shirt. The way his back ripples has my head turning fully to watch the show. Pure sin, that’s what that voice in my head is saying, not me. I’m focused on the killing part of this scenario. Another shadow moves to my right, and I point and shoot like my good little assassin. That wasn’t the thing to do because Taz falls on his back with a humph and had his arms extended, pointing his gun at the now-dead guy. He looks around, eyes steely and alert. My mouth shouldn’t be watering or staring at those delicious abs on full display. The way he is splayed out, he is partially lifting his body like you would do when doing crunches, and I count six, seven, and eight. He has an eight-pack. Now that should be damn illegal. No man should have an eight-pack. I want to lick it. I wonder if I do the damsel thing, trip, and fall and happen to... I don’t know, fall face first on his abs if I could accidentally get a lick in. Hmm.
“TORNADO.”
Snapped out of my daydreaming of licking abs. I focus on Taz's eyes as he looks up at me. His head is at a weird angle because he is still lying on the ground. But the look on his face says he’s annoyed because he had been calling out to me for far longer than he felt necessary. Oopsies.
“Hmm?”
“While you were ogling me,” his face says he’s not a fan, but his eyes are another story. “I asked if you were okay. And said that it’s clear.” He waves his hand in the air, his head, and I try not to laugh at how hilarious his big sexy ass looks right now. “It’s over. No more bad guys.”
“Oh… uh shit, my bad. Cool, cool, cool.” My head bounces up and down as I watch him stand with the ease of some majestic animal. I'm not a zoologist, so fuck if I know what kind, but he looks good getting to his feet.
Well, shit. I wasn’t done ogling.
Taz looks down at me, and his body goes rigid for about two point-five seconds. It takes less than a second for him to be on the move. Before I know what’s happening, Taz is on me, pushing me down without a word, but with a surprisingly gentle touch. Somehow, that has my hand loosening on my gun, which falls to the ground and skids underneath the car. Motherfucker, shit goddamnit, what the actual fuck is this sexy beast doing to me? Before I make a move. He looks at me with pure anger and determination in his eyes.
“Don’t move a fucking inch, Tornado?”
Taz's eyes are alert and have a deadly glint in them. Of course, that has my panties melting and me swooning like a teenage girl. Before I can comment, awareness prickles, my head turns toward what or who has broken yet another damn moment. People need to learn to fuck right off. And holy hell, hulk-man. Taz is on the fucker who brought a knife to a gunfight. I can guess that the dumb fuck thought that since all of his other compadres were down for the count, he’d get one last lick in. I mean, I get it. I know plenty of mercenaries and assassins who use everything but guns to do their killing. But come on, read the room, dude. If you got ninety-nine bullets, what's a knife going to do? Nothing but get you dead.
The punch Taz lands to the guy's jaw has his head snapping to the side and toward me. When my eyes connect to the Hulk-mans, mine narrows as I see a twinkle of mischief in his. Standing, oh no, you don’t, you pig fucker. Pulling away from the car, which has Taz’s head snapped toward me, and his eyes narrowed, letting me know it was not a good idea to come between him and the ass-whipping he plans to dole out. Okey dokey smokey message received. I slump back into the car, attempting to ignore the burning in my leg. Fuck, this shit hurts.
My eyes are on the fucker who licks his lips while staring at me with lust in his eyes. Even while getting his ass kicked, he winks at me like I’m going to be the prize after his kill. My eyes narrow, and my lips tilt. I love it when men underestimate me. Because even if he does best Taz, he won’t be walking out of those gates. I'm not saying Taz can’t take him, but I don’t think in resolutes–shit happens. Either way, the hulk-fucker is going to die. When I lean back further into the car and smile, there is a knowing glint in my eyes. The interaction doesn’t go unnoticed by him or Taz. Hulk-fucker receives a one-two kidney shot for his troubles. Taz doesn’t even look back at me as he loses his shit on ol’ boy. They are grappling for a good minute. The dude is a good inch or two shorter than Taz, but he’s a stalky fucker who eats his Wheaties.
Taz takes hits and receives them. I’m enjoying this show. I should help my man out, but he’s got this. The man can handle his own. Taz is big, but he’s fast. I hear a roar, and Taz grabs my would-be attacker by his throat and picks the motherfucker up. My eyes widen because even though Taz has a few inches on the guy, the guy has a good hundred pounds on him. Taz dead-ass lifts him off the ground like he’s picking up a piece of paper.
I recognize crazy when I see it, and this hulk-fucker is crazy, crazy because while he is being choked out, he looks at me again, licking his fucking lips. Does this motherfucker need ChapStick? What the fuck? Taz’s eyes narrow on the man he has by the neck, and when he sees he’s more worried about looking and taunting me, Taz loses his motherfucking shit. Hot damn.
Taz lifts the guy higher, his feet dangling and kicking. Taz doesn’t feel when the fucker's feet connect with his leg because he slams him hard as fuck on the ground. The dude hasn’t said a word until now, at least that I could hear. He bellows out and lets off a few colorful expletives, making me smile and giggle. Fucking hell, what it is with me and damn giggling. I swear this girly shit is for the birds.
Fucking finally, the fucker seems to get the gravity of the situation that he is about to die because he struggles and fights back, but it is too late for that shit now. Taz isn’t having it. He releases Hulk-man’s neck and unleashes holy hell. When I say he demolishes the man, he is holding nothing back. The punches from Taz come fast and furious. I see blood, teeth, and drool flying everywhere. And it is a beautiful sight, a beautiful mess. And it’s making me horny as shit. That’s a new revelation with this damn man. I never, and I mean never, in all my twenty-eight years of life, been this raring to go watching a man beat the breaks off another. And I like it.
Watching Taz take this guy out is a beautiful thing. Once the dude is dead. Taz stands to his full height, heaving heavy breaths. He pulls his sidepiece and shoots Hulk-man in the head and heart for good measure. I know I should have helped him out. But I was being a good little woman and staying out of it, and it didn’t bother me one bit about being told what to do. It usually would, but we will not be unpacking that anytime soon. Deciding to listen and not pull out one of my knives and go seviche on the fucker. Taz isn’t just a pretty face and muscles. That much is evident by the mangled body at his feet. I guess now I know why they call him Taz.
He looks at me with a heaving chest. I slump back and put my weight on my other leg. There are no more gunshots. I hear some bellows from what sounds like Gunner checking on his club brothers. I let out a sigh of relief. At least he’s still kicking. I may be pissed at the old fucker, but I don’t want him dead. His daughter, um, the jury is still out on that. And I know she’s tucked away safely.
“I got them. Thanks, sister dearest, heading your way,” Sin says, all giddy and shit. I don’t acknowledge her.
Taz stalks toward me, instantly falling to his knees once he reaches me. I let out a hiss as Taz pokes and prods at my leg. He is gentle for a big fucker, but this graze hurts like a motherfucker. I hear a crackle in the coms. These fucking things. Blaze needs to figure out a way for our shit not to get fucked again.
