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The guy shifted off the bed and came towards us, a menacing glare in

his eyes. “What the fuck business is it of yours, and how the fuck did you get in here?” He was tall and built, and his body was tensed, ready for a fight. He’d obviously never met my president; I’d never known King to lose a fight.

“The name Skylar ring a fucking bell, asshole?” King demanded.

A look of recognition crossed the guy’s face but he said, “Never heard that name in my life. Now fuck off and leave me the hell alone.”

King seethed with anger, the rage clinging to his words as he said, “Your first mistake, Marco, was fucking with my sister. Your second mistake was raping the girl on your bed, and your last fucking mistake will be lying to me.”

He stepped towards Marco and punched him hard in the face. The sound of bone cracking vibrated around the room. The guy retaliated, aiming a punch at King’s cheek, but King blocked it, shoving the guy backwards and into the wall. As he sagged against it, and slid to the ground, King advanced and stood over him.

“Wanna tell me the truth now?” he asked, his voice deathly calm and controlled.

Marco glared up at him and then spat at his feet. “Your sister was a good fucking root, man. That cunt of hers was sweet and tight -”

King cut him off with a punch to the jaw. His head swung to the side and hit the bedside table before King hauled him up by his shirt, swung him around and shoved him forcefully into the other wall. It was obvious from the look on King’s face that he had only one thing on his mind – death.

As King continued to rain pain down onto the guy, I turned my attention to the girl on the bed. Terror flashed in her eyes and as I walked towards her, her whole body flinched as if she was trying desperately to escape me.

I shook my head. “You’re safe with me, darlin’,” I murmured as I pulled my knife from its sheath. Cutting the ropes tied to her wrists and feet, I freed her. She scrambled into a huddled position with her knees up and arms around them, and stared at me in silence, obviously waiting to see what I would do to her.

Fuck, I hated this shit. Hated the fear she felt because of a man who believed it was his right to take whatever he wanted from a woman.

I sat on the bed beside her and pointed at King who was still beating the shit out of the rapist asshole. “That man’s sister was used by the guy who was raping you, and that’s why we’re here. He won’t stop until he kills the guy, at which point we’ll take you wherever you want to go. You’re safe with us. Okay?”

Her eyes widened and then she nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered, her body visibly relaxing a little.

“Good. Now where are your clothes?”

She jerked her chin towards the corner of the room and I located them and brought them to her. “Get dressed, ‘cause I don’t think we’re gonna be here much longer,” I said as I took in the bloodied mess King was creating.

I left her to it and walked back to where King was. “You need a hand, boss?” I asked.

He stopped mid-punch and looked up at me. His long dark hair stuck to his sweaty face, his eyes held the crazy that I knew he was made of, and his breaths were coming hard. “Does it look like I need a fucking hand, smartass?” he asked. He’d knocked Marco unconscious and, by the looks of it, Marco’s remaining breaths were limited.

I grinned and shrugged. “Just making sure, old man. I mean, you’re nearing forty so I figure your body might start letting you down soon.”

“Fuck off,” he muttered, and went back to what he was doing.

I waited in silence. The only sounds in the room were of fists colliding with bones and the grunts King made as he took his revenge. I’d lost count of the number of times this scenario had played out over the last thirteen years. King liked to take back-up when he went on one of his missions, but he rarely needed it.

The sound of whimpering caught my attention and I turned to the girl. She stood by the bed staring at King, tears streaming down her face. My natural instinct was to go to her and wrap her in my arms; however, I figured after being attacked by one stranger, she’d hardly want another stranger touching her. Instead, I said to King, “Can we hurry this the fuck up, ‘cause we’ve got a woman we need to get out of here.”

King straightened, took a step away from the body lying at his feet, and turned to me. Blood covered his shirt, some of his face and his hands. He looked like he’d stepped out of a horror movie but it wasn’t anything I’d never seen before. His gaze flicked to the girl. “You wanna see me end his life so you know for sure he won’t ever hurt you again, or would you prefer to leave the room?”

“Fuck, King, like she needs to see anymore shit,” I said, before she could answer him. King had some fucked-up ideas sometimes.

He glared at me. “Let the girl decide. Maybe she’ll surprise the fuck out of you.”

I returned his glare before turning to her. She stood staring at me in panic, shaking her head at the idea. It looked like she wasn’t even taking breaths.

I nodded and started walking to her. It was clear she was about to lose her shit and I needed to get her out of here. When I reached her, I pulled her close to me and said, “It’s okay, I’ll get you out of here before - ”

The shot rang out and her scream tore through me as her eyes looked past me to King.

Fuck.

Motherfucker.

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