Page 35 of Brutal Game

It wouldn’t hurt to make that more likely, would it?

I’d never murdered anyone, but I was angry enough to, now. Besides, murder and violence ran in the family; I’m sure I could figure it out.

Striding toward him, I grabbed him by the throat and lifted him out of his chair so I could stare him right in the eyes.

Dick flailed.

“You’re going to want to listen to me, Richard, because I’ll only give you this warningonce.You’re going to apologize to Aviva, and then you’re going to leave her the hell alone.

You won’t touch her, you won’t threaten her, you won’t harass her, you won’t come near her other than to pay her—and you’re going to give her a raise.”

Dick coughed.

I squeezed, determined to get my point across.

Dick gasped.

“Jack!” Aviva said. “Jack, stop. You’re going to kill him.”

Fuck.

The red haze began to clear.

I’d lost control of my anger for a second. But her voice alone, solid and strong, calmed me.

Exhaling slowly, I released Dick, who dropped back into the chair with a yelp.

“Do you get me?” I asked.

“I—I got you,” he wheezed.

“Don’t you owe someone an apology?”

He glanced over at Aviva. “I’m sorry, Aviva.”

“Good,” I said. “Aviva’s done here for the night. Oh, and Dick? If I find out you used Vixen on anyone, if you start harrassing your other female employees, I’ll be back to see you—and you’ll like my second visit even less.”

He nodded.

“C’mon, pr—Aviva.”

Aviva gaped at me.

I walked to her, grabbing her by the hand and tugging her from the room. “You either walk out of here with me, or I’m throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you out.”

She rolled her eyes but let me lead her out.

“Remember what I said, Richard,” I called over my shoulder at the sniveling, pathetic worm of a man behind me before I slammed the door.

I didn’t speak, fully focused on Aviva behind me, her harsh, surprised breaths. Her hand was soft, smooth, delicate. Fully surrounded and protected by mine. An unfamiliar feeling, one I’d only ever experienced with my siblings, filled me.

Protective. I felt protective. Aviva was a flame, magnificent and dangerous, and at risk of being extinguished.

I didn’t want to extinguish her. I wanted to protect her, even if it meant we both burned.

Fuckeven if. I wanted to protect herbecauseit meant we both would burn.

Possessed by some wild urge, I intertwined our fingers.

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