Page 88 of Mace

My brother is the last of us inside, and he shuts the door behind him as his gaze roams around. “You’re gonna have to tell me something about this girl that caught your attention.”

I have zero desire to do that. “You already know about her.”

“She was the girl who tried to protect that shithead, Sam, wasn’t she?”

“Yeah, that’s her.”

Nicky sits on the couch while Nate picks up a photo frame from the coffee table. It’s a picture of a younger Maylie with her siblings and an older woman I assume is their mother.

“She seems way too nice to be with you,” he quips as I take it from him and put it back.

“She is. I couldn’t fucking tell you why, but for some reason, she likes me, and I ain’t gonna question it.”

It’s about thirty minutes—during which time Nate and Nicky grill me on everything about Maylie—before there’s an impatient hammering on the door.

That pisses me off. I can imagine how scared Maylie would have been if she’d been here alone, trying to protect her pregnant sister from this fucking monster.

I glance at my brother and best friend as the hammering sounds again.

“Let’s do this.” Nate stands, cracking his knuckles and tilting his head from side to side, limbering up. Even with the bruises covering his face, my brother is raring to fight.

The hammering continues as I make my way to the front door and cautiously peer through the peephole. The unfamiliar male on the other side of the door has my jaw clenching. I don’t see any weapons in his hands, but I’m still wary as I drag the door open.

The guy is older than I am, with shaved hair on the sides of his head and longer strands on top. It’s clear he’s trying to give the impression he’s some sort of fucking gangster with the rings dripping off his fingers and the chains around his neck, but he shits his pants the moment he sees my kutte.

That’s right, fucker.You ain’t so tough when you’re not dealing with two little girls.

“Where’s Ivy?” He doesn’t sound sure of himself as he asks the question.

You should have run.

Anger blazing through me, I grab him by the front ofhis jacket and drag him into the flat. Nicky gets the door, kicking it shut behind us as I ram my fist into his fucking gut with enough force to blast the air out his body.

The guy folds like wet fucking paper, retching at the force of my hit, and so I deliver a second punch, this time putting even more force behind it.

The sight of Maylie’s bruised wrist flares through my mind, adding fuel to the fire already burning inside me. I’m going to make this prick hurt.

I drag him into the living room, shoving him down onto the sofa. He quickly tries to get up, but I press my boot against his cock, adding pressure when he tries to move. “Do it. I dare you,” I cajole. “I’ll pulverise your cock into mincemeat if you so much as fuckin’ twitch.”

He holds up his hands in supplication, his face pale as milk. Fuck him. “Look, man, I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t have any beef with you.”

“Wrong answer,” my brother mutters.

“Link, Link, Link. Or should I say Jason?” His expression is pure terror now. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with you?” I ask.

I lean my palms either side of the cushions next to his shoulders, giving him a menacing grin. “You touched what’s mine, and I don’t take that fucking lightly.”

His eyes flash with rage for a split second before he manages to control his temper, but it doesn’t matter. I see it. I see him. I understand the thin thread he’s holding on by. “Ivy is mine. She’s carrying my kid?—”

I wrap a hand around his throat, squeezing until his face turns an impressive shade of puce. “Not Ivy, though we are going to get into how you raped a fucking child in a moment. I’m talking about Maylie.” His eyes bouncebetween me and my brothers behind me. “She’s fucking mine.”

Just as he seems like he’s going to pass out, I loosen my hold, letting him drag in a breath to refill his starved lungs.

“I didn’t know,” he gasps.

“I don’t give a fuck.”

“You’re a real piece of shit, aren’t you?” my brother asks, and I agree with him.

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