Page 46 of Ryker

“The fuck,” he yells, standing at the driver’s side door and attempts to yank it open. Too bad it’s locked. I sit back and smile at him. He looks like a fucking idiot.

“Open the fucking door, Tara!” The heel of his palm slams against the window and my heart leaps into my throat.

Garret has a bad temper and considers himself better than everyone else. Especially me.

I suck in a deep breath and mask my expression. Confidence gets me out of jams often and I’ve perfected my bullshit game to where sometimes I even fool myself. Opening the car door, I hit him with it because he won’t back up. “Do you mind?” One bare foot, then two, land on the cold asphalt as I climb out of the Audi.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Garret snarls, stepping back with a disgusted expression that makes him twice as ugly as usual. “You’re an embarrassment, Tara.”

Swallowing a million usual comebacks, I decide to flaunt past him and head inside.

“Don’t walk away from me!” Garrett yells, storming after me.

Making sure my robe is tightly wrapped around me, I keep my gaze straight ahead and make it to the elevator before caving. “What are you even doing here, Garret?”

“You missed our meeting this morning. I called your cell, and you didn’t answer.”

“So?” My heart thuds in my chest. “That hardly warrants you coming here.”

“Did you get the Greene Street property or not?”

“I decided against it.”

Garret grabs my arm and jerks me. “What?” His voice is clipped. Low. Seething.

Ignoring the dizzying fear that’s gripped me, I cock my eyebrow at him and calmly say, “Let. Go.”

He doesn’t.

“That was your last chance, Tara.” His smile makes my throat tighten. “You just fucked yourself better than I ever could.” His icy gaze drags down my body as he huffs a laugh. “Bet you didn’t even bother to go to Greene Street, you lazy whore.” His gaze rakes up and down my form. “I can only imagine how many dicks you sucked last night.”

“Angry none of them were yours?” My palms are sweaty and chest aches.

His grip tightens on my arm, and he slams me against the wall. The back of my head cracks on the marble tile and his hand wraps tightly around my throat. “You stupid fucking cunt.”

Two people step out of the elevator, take one look at us, and rush out the front door. No one ever helps me.

Garret chuckles because he’s used to no one interfering with his temper tantrums. “You’re pathetic.” His mouth gets closer to mine. “I hope you get fired for sinking the deal. Hell, maybe you’ll get cut off for good. Finally.”

My eyes fill with tears because he’s squeezing way too hard. He sees me struggling to breathe. That smug smile of his also tells me he likes it.

“If you want to keep your motherfucking hands, you better remove them from her throat.”

I’m robbed of breath when Ryker casually walks towards us. He looks calm. Unfazed.

But his dark gaze is vicious.

Garret doesn’t let go. “Mind your business, asshole.”

Ryker doesn’t hesitate. The instant he’s within striking distance, he punches Garret in the back of the head. My stepbrother drops to the ground with a grunt. “She is my business,” Ryker says, kicking Garret in the ribs next.

Two more hits and Garret’s splayed out on the ground, face down. Ryker straddles him and uses Garret’s own tie to strangle him with. My stepbrother’s eyes bug out, his face turning a spectacular crimson, and he chokes with his tongue out like a fucking dog.

“When I let you go,” Ryker growls, “you will apologize and never touch her again. Is that clear?”

Garret sputters and kicks his legs. “Yessss.”

Covering my mouth with shaky hands, I’m terrified, angry, and relieved all at once. No one has attacked Garret like this before. It’ll either put him in line or make him act out worse later.

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