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I will not strike—
“If you won’t speak willingly, we’ll just make ya. Won’t we, boys?” Bald Spot grinned.
Fuck.
I braced myself for a punch.
I deliberated how to protect Neri if they attacked.
But then Neri threw a match onto the gasoline these bastards had poured around our feet and stepped in front of me.
Putting herself in harm’s way.
Making me lose the final shred of my control.
“Stop being racist pricks and go the fuck away!”
I snapped. I roared. I jerked her back. “Lanet olsun, Neri. Sus!” (Damn it, Neri. Shut up!)
All four guys reacted.
Disgust filled their faces.
Neri’s wide eyes met mine.
And I realised my mistake too late.
Just like every time when my emotions grew too fierce, my mind slipped into my first language.
The guys bared their teeth. “Bloody immigrant. Can’t even speak fucking English.”
Fuck.
FUCK.
They stepped closer.
“Let her go, cunt!” Black t-shirt lurched forward, grabbing Neri’s arm. He tugged her forward, making her stumble.
My heart stopped beating.
The savagery inside me woke up. The brutality that I’d only embraced once in my life raised its ugly head.
Gritting my teeth, I refused to speak.
I merely stepped forward, tore the bastard’s hand off Neri, then shifted her so she was directly behind me. Backing her into the building, I caged her in, trapping her behind me.
“Aslan—”
“Quiet,” I hissed.
“Fucking bastard. Don’t tell her what to do.” Ugly Fish tried to grab Neri from the side.
I stepped into his path and snarled. “You touch her, and you’re fucking dead.”
The two older guys paused and looked at each other.
A slow smile crossed their faces.
