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I was fucking pissed.
New rule: no one but Tamson was allowed to tie me up or gag me. Hell to the no.
Quickly recalling my training, those formidably long days in the backyard covered in sweat, I threw my head back and connected with the cartilage of his nose. He didn’t release me, but his arms did loosen enough for me to duck out of, spinning with the dagger raised. Before I had time to second guess myself, I swiped the blade where my attacker had been moments before. He danced out of the way before I could pierce skin.
A stinging slap had my head twisting to the side, cheek burning.
Okay, nowthatdeserved a triple fuck sundae on the whole “curse words” scale. I really hated being slapped.
The man grunted suddenly, keeling over.
“Take that, bitch.”
Tommy, panting, stood behind him, a baseball bat clasped in his hands. And...was that a fucking sword on his back? I recalled him mentioning it vaguely, but hearing about it and seeing it were two entirely different things.
For one, how had he snuck that weapon inside the outpost?
Two, which one of my dumbass boyfriends had trusted him with a fucking sword?
And three...
Well, there were actually only two.
Before I could comment, Tommy swung the bat at the newcomer’s head, and he fell unconscious.
“Fuck Declan sideways,” I whispered, hustling back a step.
Tommy smiled, slightly sardonically if I was being honest. “You’re welcome.” His eyes flickered over the two unconscious men. “We need to tie them up.”
“Tam might have handcuffs in his bag.” I nodded towards where he slept, red hair disheveled in sleep. While I kept my attention fixated on the two bodies, Tommy scrambled to collect the handcuffs, seemingly unconcerned why my shy lover would have handcuffs and/or rope in his bag. Nik stood in the doorway, cautiously analyzing the entire scene.
Tommy cried out, “There’s a paddle here too. Can we use that during our torture interrogation?”
Oh sweet baby Jesus.
