Page 122 of Sinful Secrets

Savannah squeals. Turning around, I see a man standing behind her with one hand across her mouth and the other holding a knife at her throat.

Is he the only one here?

Are there more?

How can I save Savannah and take the man out?

He’s not living after this, not if I have any say over it.

Save Savannah first, then take care of this asshole.

Her eyes are wide with fear, but she’s not moving.

He leans down and whispers something in her ear. She drops her gun, and it fires off a shot.

Time seems to slow as the man jerks back. The metal blade of the knife scrapes along the side of Savannah’s neck, immediately drawing blood before clanging to the ground.

“Son of a bitch.” She reaches up and grabs at her neck.

The man grabs at her again, hobbling on one foot as he pulls her back until they are standing on the road. The man positions himself directly behind Savannah, so I can’t shoot him without shooting her.

I slowly inch my way toward them.

Within a blink of an eye, Savannah elbows the man in his stomach, stomps on his foot, elbows him in his nose with her other elbow, and punches him in his groin before running over to me.

What the fuck just happened? How did she get free by herself?

The man crumbles to the ground, groaning and clenching at his groin.

Without giving him a chance to reach for a weapon or stand back up, I shoot him. Twice.

Turning toward Savannah, I reach into my pants and pull out a small flashlight. I check the cut on her neck, making sure it doesn’t require an emergency room visit or stitches.

Thankfully, it doesn’t, but it does need first aid and several butterfly bandages.

Rhett has a first aid kit in his truck. We need to get there.

Sighing, I ask, “Where did you learn self defense?”

She gives me a small smile. “Miss Congeniality.”

“Huh?”

“The movie. It made me want to learn, and given my small size, I took a few classes.”

“I’m impressed, and rock hard.”

She reaches down and palms my erection before giving it a light squeeze.

A woman screaming in the distance interrupts our moment.

Savannah picks up my gun and assures me she will be alright.

“Okay, let’s go.”

We sprint toward the center of the port where the truck is loaded with the drugs. A few bloodied bodies are scattered around, but all the original cars are gone.

Savannah pulls on my belt loop, keeping me in the shadows of the shipping containers. She reaches over my shoulder and points in front of us. “Look.”

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