Page 27 of Judge's Justice

I didn't answer. Just focused on breathing. On staying conscious. On counting the seconds until Saint and Canvas got here.

But then the door opened.

And everything went to hell.

Nora stood on the porch, her face pale and terrified, and she screamed at them to stop. To leave me alone. All three Vipersturned to look at her. The gray-bearded one's eyes lit up with recognition.

"Well, well," he said slowly. "That's her. That's the woman from the security footage."

No. Fuck no.

"Get inside." I tried to make it an order, but my voice came out wrecked. Ruined. "Nora, get inside now—"

But the Viper from last night was already moving toward her. Phone still recording. That sick grin spreading across his face.

"Come on out, sweetheart. Let me get a good look at you again. Let Demon see what the Iron Phoenix’s VP is willing to die for."

And now? Now, I don't know where the strength comes from. Don't know how I manage to move when my ribs are screaming, and my vision's swimming and I can barely breathe. But I'm on my feet. Shoving the bald one aside when he tries to grab me. Dodging the gray-bearded one's attempt to kick my legs out again.

The Viper from last night is ten feet from the porch. Eight feet. Six.

"Stay away from her." My voice is barely human. More growl than words.

He glances back at me, laughing. "Or what? You can barely stand, old man. What are you going to—"

I don't let him finish.

I grab him by the back of his vest and yank him backward so hard he flies off his feet. His phone skitters across the pavement. He lands on his back, the air rushing out of him in a wheeze, and I'm on him before he can recover.

My fist connects with his already-broken nose. Blood explodes. He screams. I hit him again. And again.

"You don't—" Hit. "—fucking touch her—" Hit. "—you don't even look at her—"

Hands grab me from behind. The bald one and gray-bearded one hauling me off the Viper, who's curling into a ball, blood pouring from his face.

"So that's how it is," the gray-bearded one says. There's something dark in his voice. Satisfied. Like I just confirmed something. "You do care. That changes things."

He spins me around and drives his fist into my stomach. The broken rib shifts and I nearly black out from the pain.

"New deal," he says. Close enough that I can smell tobacco on his breath. "We take the girl. Bring her to Demon. Let him decide what to do with civilians who get involved in club business."

"Over my dead body."

"That can be arranged."

The bald one grabs my arm, twists it behind my back. The angle is wrong, too high, something pops in my shoulder and agony shoots down my arm.

The gray-bearded one walks toward the porch.

Toward Nora.

She's backing up, hands raised, eyes wide with terror. "Don't. Please. My daughter is inside. She's five years old. Please don't—"

"Should've thought about that before you opened the door, sweetheart."

I see movement in the window behind Nora. A small face. Dark curls. Grace is watching. Watching these men advance on her mother. Watching me bleeding on the ground.

I'm fighting now. Actually fighting. Driving my elbow back into the bald one's face. He grunts but doesn't let go. I kick backward, catch his knee, feel something crunch. He roars and releases me.