Font Size:  

I throw myself onto the flattened door, landing on my knees and crushing the tangled mass of them under my weight.

“Boss, boss,” Maury gasps, trying to squirm out of one side. “Don’t hit me.”

I must have that look in my eyes, the one he remembers from when I won my family. That was the last time my mind emptied like this.

I feel like there’s beast blood pumping through my veins.

I feel like I need to fuck Kimberly the moment she’s safe, hard, pound her so hard that her newly-used cunt gets that sweet creamy feeling again.

I start swinging down at the door, just like it’s Whack-a-Mole.

My fists crash through the door. I punch them in the face, neck, stomach, wherever my strikes land. They try to fight back at first. I can feel the power of them beneath the door, but they don’t have the primal protective urge that boils in my tense, tight body.

I punch and roar and then they’re gasping, choking, and coughing.

Their faces are bloody and spattered with little pieces of wood from the door.

“Guns,” I snarl, my voice more beast than man.

“Man, we can’t breathe under here,” the man moans, the one who insulted my woman.

“Guns,” I repeat.

“Fellas, you need to listen,” Maury says anxiously. “He’ll kill you if you make him ask you again.”

“Alright—shit. Maury, we’re passing them up to you.”

I keep my bloodied and shrapnel-covered fists ready to rain more punches down on them. Aaron is unconscious, but he’s breathing, making soft groaning noises.

He’s a preppy looking fuck, his blonde hair quaffed. His muscles are strange looking, inflated almost. All of them are the same way.

All of them are on steroids, the favorite drug of the bully.

The men twist and their guns scrape across the ground.

Maury starts collecting them, muttering under his breath, counting. “Three guns for three men. What about Aaron’s?”

“Empty,” the man says. “We all heard.”

“Hmm,” I growl, staring down into the man’s face.

He’s just a few years younger than me, I’d guess, his hair brown and flat across his forehead. He’s got a tattoo under his eye, a blood-red teardrop. His beard is wispy. He looks like what he is, a foolish cub trying to challenge his superior.

My fingers twitch to throttle the life out of him.

“Hey, man,” he says. “You’ve made your point. You know that, right? There’s nothing we can do. Look at us. We’re goddamned humiliated.”

“Boss, I’m calling Artie. He’ll rally the troops.”

I don’t acknowledge him.

I drive my knee harder into the crumpled wood of the shattered door, driving more pressure against his chest. He gasps and his neck turns red, his eyes bulging.

“You insulted my woman,” I growl. “Maury heard you. Your men heard you. I heard you. And most importantly, she heard you. Do you really think I can let you get away with that?”

“Look, I’m sorry,” the man cries. “I didn’t mean to—I didn’t know she meant anything to you.”

“She means everything to me,” I snarl, twisting my knee, pressing more and more of my weight on him.

“Okay, okay,” the man wheezes. “I’m sorry. Can you hear me, Kimberly—it’s Kimberly, right? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

My ears twitch as the vase hits the floor behind me. Kimberly is walking into the corridor. I can hear her dress rustling, closer until she’s standing right over the top of this mess.

Her sex scent whirls in the air and the carnal part of me almost snaps at the thought of them smelling it.

I growl and drive my knee harder.

He moans and twists, his steroid muscles no use to him now.

“He would kill you,” my woman snaps from beside me.

She speaks like a mafia queen.

She wears her royalty well.

“If I asked him to. Because you insulted me. And no man – no matter how funny you think you are, or how powerful, or how fucking important – gets to talk to me that way anymore. Got it, dickhead?”

“Answer her,” I snarl, pride sparking inside of me.

“Yes, yes,” the man gasps. “I’ve got it. Jeez. I’m sorry.”

“Good,” she sighs. “Then I don’t think you need to die.”

“But you’ll be going to prison,” I tell him.

I want to kill him – my body aches for it – but I will defer to my queen on this one.

“You’ll turn us in?” the man says, voice shocked.

I chuckle grimly. “Of course we’ll turn you in. We don’t owe you a damn thing. You’re lucky my woman has accepted your apology. Otherwise, you’d be digging your own grave for speaking about her way.

The man shivers, recoiling from me.

Of course, he’s a coward.

Just like any man who would stoop to insulting a woman is.

For as long as I live, I’ll never stop defending what’s mine.

“It’s all arranged, boss,” Maury says. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. They made me bring them.”

“We’ll talk about this later,” I sigh darkly.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like