Page 142 of Ruthless Protector


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Pitiless dark eyes met mine as his hand slipped from my mouth and grasped my neck. His fingers clenched tight, driving theboom…boom…boomof my pulse through my head. I slapped and fought, pushing through the blinding pain to lash out with my bare feet. But there was no stopping his wrath. There was no stopping his strength.

His fist came again, driving into my temple.Crack!I wasdazed, stunned. My hands dropped from his arms. It was all he needed, all he cared about, and like a predator with his fangs deep into his prey, he dragged me to the door. Until that fire exploded inside me like an inferno.

My fingers twitched, my hands rose, gripping the doorframe as we passed.“NO! LET ME GO!”

His fist drove into my side. Pain lashed, finding that deep, already bruised agony, a remnant of previous fists and rage.

“I willfucking kill you!”my captor screamed into my face.

He spun, tearing my hold free, and slammed me backwards.

My head impacted with the wall with athud!Then I was thrown. Air slapped my face, before I hit the wooden chair, knocking it over, and crashed to the ground. Pain exploded through my mouth as my face collided with the floor.

“I’ll fucking kill you…”

Darkness came for me, striding across the space as the front door slammed shut. I twisted, lifting one hand toward him, and wrapped the other around my belly. But it was all too late as he wrenched his foot backwards and drove it through the air.

My knuckles crunched under the steel of his boot as agony exploded through my belly.

It was all I knew in that moment, all that consumed me.

The desperate need to protect made me curl my spine and hug my belly. But he didn’t care as, incensed with barbaric hunger, he drove his boot in again…and again…and again.Darkness swam in my vision as something inside me wentcrunch. Black ate away at the edges of my world, leaving the glimpses of light to swim. Fresh agony moved through me, carving like a knife.

Until the blows ended.

And screams moved into my world.

52

Lazarus

We weren’t going to make it…

Streetlights swept by in a blur.

Faces from the crowds melted into nothing.

And that serpent inside me coiled, lifting its head to stare at me with yellow eyes.

I gripped my gun until the patterned grip embedded into my flesh. And as the sparkling lights of Paris’s seedy underbelly rose in the distance, Logan’s phone rang once more.

“Yeah…” he answered. “What?What do you mean he’s not moving? Okay…okay. Fuck, I’ll let him know.”

My brother’s savage gaze met mine in the sideview mirror of the four-wheel drive as he ended the call. He watched me…they all watched me.

“Hale hasn’t gone in.” My gut clenched in hope. “He’s waiting for reinforcements.”

And that savagery in me hissed, baring its fangs.

“He’s waiting for reinforcements?”I repeated as the sound of sirens echoed in the distance.

“Seems like he doesn’t trust them, he’s out front with his driver.”

I clenched my hold around my rage and cut my gaze to the driver, who punched the accelerator even harder, driving me against the back of the seat. “Eight minutes,” the enforcer announced, glancing at the GPS in front of him.

My hand was already on the handle as we braked, tires skidding, as we cut tight around a corner, mounting the curb hard,then hit bounced back against the asphalt. He was out front…and we were going in the back.

“Faster!”I roared.

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