Page 64 of Vicious Sabotage

The woman was killing him. As if staring at Livia all night hadn’t turned him on enough, he knew she was purposely dragging out his torment by swishing her cute ass in front of that camera.

Usually she performed the most necessary tasks and left the rest of the cleanup until morning, but she chose now to scrub down the surface of the bar and take inventory of the alcohol.

He leaned against the wall, alternating between watching her and watching his phone screen. The woman was bending over to test his control.

Funny thing was, when it came to Livia, he didn’t have any.

She glanced up, a smile ready on her lips. “Would you check the stockroom to see if we have any triple sec?”

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

She settled a hand on her hip. “I need to place the order first thing in the morning if I want the delivery tomorrow.”

He pushed away from the wall and sauntered across the room. Her gaze trailed over him, and when he turned his back to her, he felt her stare rake down his spine. At the door of the stockroom, he tossed a glance over his shoulder to make sure she was watching.

Pain exploded through his skull.

His training kicked in. A bellow of fury on his lips, he compartmentalized the pain. Shoved it deep in a dark corner of his mind.

Fuck, Livia was right outside that door. He had to get them both out of this alive.

He whipped around to face six men.

Big, ugly bastards prepared for a fight.

The first question that came to mind was how the fuck they got in. It had to be through the back door. How, though? It was kept locked during business hours to prevent drunks from drifting in and out of places they didn’t belong.

One of the employees must have opened it, and he’d been so distracted by Livia, so busy thinking of what he was going to do to her once they got home, that he hadn’t finished his rounds securing the place.

Rookie move. Now he was going to pay for it.

Two men jumped him. Their combined weight drove him to one knee. Using his shoulder, he deflected a brutal kick. The steel toe connected with his muscle. Pain crashed through him, building his fury.

He hooked one around his knee and ripped his leg out from under him, making sure to shove it in at an angle that would snap the tendons. He bellowed.

Great—Livia would definitely come running now.

“Livia! Lock yourself in your office and call 911!”

“Carver!”

“Do it!”

He knew the rest of the bar was clear. As long as he had them all trapped in here, no one could get to her.

The five men shifted into a semicircle around him, thighs braced and fists curled. One lay writhing on the floor, holding his ruined leg.

Carver waggled his fingers, egging them on. “Let’s do this.”

Livia’s voice calling his name projected from just outside the stockroom. Fuck—she wasn’t going to listen to him.

He whipped out a fist, the blow connecting with the jaw of the man closest to him. His head rocked. Blood sprayed from his mouth and spattered the floor.

“You’re going to pay for that.” The man spat a fat glob of blood and saliva on the polished cement.

Carver hooked another guy around the neck and pressed his thumbs into the base of his throat. Breaking a man’s neck this way was violent and the most personal way to kill, but he wanted to see the light in the eyes of his enemy fade.

Two men jumped him again, forcing him to release the man before he gained the satisfaction. One pummeled his head. He felt his eardrum burst and go silent. Blood trickled from a cut on his brow.

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