Page 29 of Sinner's Malice

Well shit.

“Sorry, the guys were visiting Vicious. Mercy saw the arnica cream in my hands and started asking questions. As for Tessa and Largo, they were in the elevator when I stepped in.”

Montana looked at Mercy and ordered, “I want Malice found. Fast. Motherfucker put hands on Silver.”

Shaking my head, I looked at Mercy, who frowned.

This was getting out of hand. If I didn’t do something, Mercy would send out the call to have all the clubs hunt down and apprehend Malice by any means necessary. That was something I couldn’t allow.

“Stop!” I shouted, grimacing loudly as I cupped my throat.

Okay, that hurt like a motherfucker.

But it worked because all eyes were on me.

Taking a deep breath, I looked at Montana and spoke.

“I consented.”

“The fuck you did,” Montana countered. “No one would consent to that kind of treatment.”

Holding my ground, I added,

“He branded me.”

“Don’t give a fuck. I will have Bane remove it before nightfall.”

He would too.

I knew that.

Left with no choice, I said the one thing that was sure to halt Montana dead in his tracks.

“We didn’t use a condom.”

“Montana, look at her,” Tessa insisted, standing firmly in front of her husband, prohibiting him from leaving my new penthouse. The man was barely hanging on by a thread. He wanted Malice’s blood on his hands. The fury radiating off him was suffocating. And as much as I hated to admit it, he was actually scaring me.

I’d never seen him so angry before.

Not even when shit went sideways with the whole Reaper thing.

“I am!”

“No, you’re not.” Tessa shook her head. “Really look at her. Does Silver look like a woman who is in any kind of danger?”

“She’s fucking black and blue, Tess!”

Tessa sighed. “Yes, she is, but she clearly said she consented. Do you honestly believe that Malice would have touched her if she’d have said no?”

“I don’t know what that sick fuck thinks. He hurt her, Tess.”

“And she will heal. What you need to get through your thick head is that Silver isn’t a sixteen-year-old girl anymore. She is a grown woman capable of making her own decisions.”

“She’s mine, Tess,” he whispered, silencing everyone.

“What do you mean, yours?”

Montana raked his hands through his hair as he looked at his wife and said, “She was so little. She was living on the streets. She had no one. I protected her, made sure she had everything she needed. I sat up with her and helped her get her GED. I taught her to drive, Tess. Silver is my girl. Always has been, and he hurt her.”

---