Page 29 of Mayhem and Minnie

I lean into the first stall, placing my ear to the door.

Nothing.

I move to the second.

It’s then that I see a shadow from under the third stall.

I take a step forward, and my senses tell me something is wrong.

The shadow is far too large to belong to Minnie.

At that moment, another low sound erupts in the air.

My nostrils flare.

Taking a step back, I put all my strength into my leg and kick the door.

The lock still holds, but the weak wood cracks down the middle.

Another kick, and the crack widens.

That’s when rage overtakes me.

Inside, there’s a dirty-ass man holding a hand over Minnie’s mouth. Her shirt is in tatters, her gaze petrified. My eyes go to her jeans, and I note that the button has been ripped and the pants are hanging low on her hips.

The man’s belt is unbuckled.

I see red.

With another kick, the lock breaks, and the door slams inward.

I barely give the man time to react as I step inside and grab him by the neck. He’s a little shorter than me but on the heavier side.

Doesn’t matter.

He dared to touch my little project, and that means all bets are off.

Pulling him forward, I wrench him with enough force to separate him from Minnie.

“Minnie, out,” I grit out as I drag the man by the throat.

She’s trembling, but she gives me a tight nod as she scurries out of my way. Yet she doesn’t leave. She backs away against the wall, watching.

The door to the bathroom is wide open, and the staff are now crowding the entrance, together with the waitress from before, who keeps babbling about me going into the women’s restroom.

But where the fuck was she when this creep got in?

The man flails his arms around, trying to land a punch on me. His silly attempts would have amused me if it wasn’t for the fact that he dared put his dirty-ass hands on Minnie.

Clenching my other hand into a fist, I bring it down over his half unbuttoned pants, hitting him hard. Once is not enough, though. His moan of pain is not enough. I ram my fist into his dick again and again. Until the bastard is begging me for mercy.

A twisted smile pulls at my lips.

Mercy? Mercy? Don’t fucking make me laugh.

I drag him by the neck to the sink, in front of the mirror. I give him one second to realize what’s in store for him before I smash his face against the mirror.

Once.

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