Page 4 of His to Take

He covered Dylan's mouth with his hand. When Dylan bit it, he yanked it back with a snarl.

And then he moved his hand to Dylan's throat.

Fuck! Dylan struggled, but Logan was bigger and stronger than him. When Dylan let out a strangled gasp, Logan's grip tightened.

And from the satisfied look in his eyes, Logan had Dylan exactly where he wanted him. "Yeah, like that," he said, voice dripping with smugness. He pressed himself down against Dylan on the couch, his cock rock hard as he rubbed against Dylan's struggling body.

He wasn't just an entitled rich guy — he was a fucking psycho.

This was bad.

Dylan's lungs burned. A surge of anger and desperation pumped through him, desperate. He couldn't let this happen. He couldn't let Logan do this to him! His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to pull away from Logan, his eyes darting around for anything that could help him...

There was a big crystal thing on the side table. Decoration, or a vase, Dylan didn't know. It was some kind of rich person shit.

But it was heavy. That'd do.

Dylan shot out a hand and grabbed it. With a strangled gasp, Dylan swung.

It connected with Logan's head with a crack. With a shout of pain, he crumpled off of the couch and fell to the ground.

Panting for air, Dylan stared at Logan in horror. His mind reeling with shock. What had he done? He'd never hurt anyone like this before. He had never even thought about it.

Logan looked up at him, one hand clutching the side of his head. Blood was beginning to trickle through his fingers, and hisface was contorted in rage. "You're going to fuckingregretthat, bitch."

Dylan dropped the weapon, his hands shaking uncontrollably. He turned and ran.

His legs moved on autopilot as he threw himself out of the hotel room and into the hallway, panicked.

He couldn't wait around for the elevator. How long would Logan be down for? Dylan's legs felt like jelly as he stumbled down the stairs instead, taking them two at a time. He could hear his own ragged breathing echoing off the walls as he descended, his heart pounding in his chest.

Go, go, keep going…

When he finally reached the lobby, he tried to compose himself, taking deep breaths and hurriedly wiping the sweat from his brow. He couldn't let anyone see how scared he was. He had to act normal, like nothing was wrong.

He strode across the wide open marble floor of the lobby, soaked with sweat, pale, and panting. People stared, but at least no-one tried to stop him.

When the heavy glass doors finally opened for him and he stepped out into the cold night air, a momentary sense of relief washed over him.

Out. He was out of that nightmare.

But then a strong hand closed around his arm, pulling him to a stop.

"Hold it right there," said a deep voice.

Chapter three

When it came to keeping the Thorne family running smoothly, Ajax was loyal. He'd been by Zane's side even before he'd assumed control of the family, the two of them finding their feet as teenagers.

But whenever Zane called in him suddenly, Ajax always knew he was in for some shit.

Ajax sunk into the chair opposite Zane's, running a calloused hand over his stubble. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like what came next.

Zane leaned forward, his voice low and steady. "I've got a job for you, and it's not one you're going to enjoy."

Trust Zane to never waste time. Ajax's eyes narrowed. "Hit me."

Ever since Zane's renegade brother, Arkady, had been sent to prison, the city had been getting heated. All kinds of small-scale outfits were vying for the space that Arkady had left, and they all wanted control.

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