Page 193 of His Pretty Little Duet

She jumps on his back, grappling her father, one arm around his neck while the other slaps hysterically at his face.My bratty queen.Dustin bucks around, but the knife?—

Fuck!I get there just as he attempts to stab her, carelessly slashing, trying to leave her with holes in her shoulders and neck.

I see red. Growling, I catch his arm, giving her relief to release her grip. Dropping to her feet, she rushes to Max. Xander has found him, and together they manage to heave the scorched trunk from his thigh. Max rises to his full height.

In one quick succession, I snap Dustin's arm at the elbow, the limp ulna and radius bone hanging pendulously.

He howls in pain.

Max is upon him instantly, kicking Dustin's kneecap in, crumbling his leg, making him a wailing pile of backward-facing bones.

"Nolil' bikers left in the row." Bronson emerges through the smoke, streams of bloody carnage sliding down his face and forearms, a knife in each fist held out wide. "Hello, beautiful brothers."

He stops by Xander, and the national park is suddenly swept in eerie stillness, only interrupted by Dustin's cries and groans. As though the entire forest has quietened down for our revenge.

My brothers let their demons out tonight, let them free to roam the national park until they must be reined in again. For my brother’s women and children. For their sense of peace. For each other.

Carter and our men are close now too, watching from a distance as large unharmed mist-covered figures.

I reach for my little deer, pull her in, and cup her cheeks, staring into her uncertain dual-coloured gaze.

"Are you hurt?" I don't wait for an answer, examining the ash-iced skin at her neck and shoulders. Small cuts mar her flesh from the tip of his knife, rocks, twigs; it doesn't matter what. I clench my teeth. Dirt, dust, and soot cover her face and clothes, and I need to get her home. I need to care for her.

"You put yourself in danger," I say tightly, finding her blue and green gaze. "I should bend you over my knee, little deer. Expose your arse and pussy and spank you until the thought of leaving me—" I choke on that admission.Dammit.Correcting myself, I say, "Ofdefyingme, will make you tremble."

She touches the bristles on my unkempt jawline. Her lips tight, and her eyes soft as she reads me. My sentiments play out on the surface despite my attempts to conceal them.

"I will always choose you, Sir," she says breathlessly, and my chest fucking throbs with affection for her. Her eyes widening, they slide past my shoulder. "Clay…"

Turning to follow her gaze, I see Max stalking Dustin as he tries to scoot backwards on broken limbs. Max's large muscular frame creeps over the fucker's crippled body.

"Stop. I'll leave," he begs. "I'll leave the city.Cross?"He calls out to the President of the Stockyard MC—otherwise known as Brock Riley—and is greeted with silence. "Cross?"

"Gone," Bronson states smoothly, wiping a stream of red from his lip with the back of his hand.

"You're alone, Dustin," Xander confirms. "Can't youfeelthe Butchers all around you?"

"Fawn! Don't let them kill your daddy?—"

"Don't say her name!" I hiss, nodding at Max, who kicks Dustin’s jaw shut. The sound of snapping teeth echoes. The knock sends him into an almost unconscious state.

Pity.

Dustin's head lulls along the dirt, his eyes rolling around like marbles within his skull. We may have taken him back with us once, drawn out the revenge. Not today. The bushfire will end this. The bodies charcoal soon.

I hear my sweet girl's breath hitch faster. This is not for Fawn to see. I pull her face into my chest, protecting her from the murderous scene. She can be my queen without witnessingher own flesh and blood die. That action doesn't rip away her strength. Nor undermined her bravery. It allows her humanity.

"He's yours," I say to Max. "Finish him.

Bronson and Xander look on from my side, and Max glares down at Dustin as the rarest of smiles creep across his face. Time becomes longer, stretching, as he hovers over him. The glow of the fire sets the backdrop. The grey smoke circles Max like the phantom of each betrayal readying itself to reap the consequences.

For the kidnapping of Konnor.

The attack on Cassidy.

For being undeserving of his daughter.

“Silence him, Max,” I order, not wanting to lead Fawn from my clutches to the safety of the car but not wanting her to hear his howls of pain either.

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