Page 218 of Brutal Savage

Fionn could crush him. The asshole has to know that.

“You’re gonna leave. Now. You’re gonna get your shit and get the fuck away from her before I permanently remove you.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It is. Do you want a demonstration?”

“Whatever,” he spits out, glaring at the young woman. “You want the whore, you can have her. She’s boring in bed anyway. Half the time, I can’t even get it up looking at her.”

The woman sobs, frantically wiping her eyes and pushing her dark hair out of her face. She’s small too. Maybe five feet. And I catch a bruise on her arm. An older bruise.

Jesus. What the hell did we walk into?

“Maybe it’s your dick.” Fionn’s nostril’s flare. “Because from looking at her, she’s definitely not the problem.”

He can’t see her, but the woman’s eyes widen and she blinks past her tears, like she can’t believe he said that.

Fionn drops the man. “You have five minutes to get out of this fucking hotel. I don’t care where you go, but you’re not staying here.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, okay.”

“I guess you’re hard of hearing.” Fionn brings his face closer. “We own the place. So unless you want to see what happens to people who don’t do what we say, I suggest you get lost before I lose more of my patience.”

He shoots the woman a glare, muttering something unintelligible under his breath before marching off.

Fionn turns to the girl, and when he sees her bruise, his fist curls at his side. “He did that to you?”

She shrugs. “It’s okay. It happened a while ago.”

Her gaze falls to her feet.

With a finger, he tilts her chin up. “It’s not okay. No one has a right to put their hands on you.”

Her bottom lip quivers.

“How about I get you some food?”

“Ah, no…” She swipes under her eyes. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He smirks. “I want to.”

“Okay.”

Her voice is so small. Poor thing. Can just imagine what she’s been putting up with.

“Do you have the key to the room you two were sharing?”

She shakes her head, picking at her nails. “He kept everything.”

“Alright, don’t worry. What’s your room number?”

“Sixty-six ninety-three.”

“Okay, I’ll get you a suite and move all your things to it.”

Her eyes grow. “I don’t have money.”

“You don’t need money.”

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