Page 10 of Breeding Justice

“Justice—”

“No,” I cut him off. “We either all get out of here, or none of us do.”

Bash’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. I could see the conflict in his eyes, the battle between his instincts to protect me and his respect for my stubbornness. “Our son needs his mother, darling.”

Fuck. How could I argue with that? “Please don’t get killed.”

The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, growing louder. Skylar straightened in his chair, that dangerous grin returning to his face. “Looks like the entertainment’s arrived.”

“Skylar,” I said, my voice a warning. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Stupid’s my specialty, love,” he quipped, but there was steel behind the humor.

The door creaked open, and two guards stepped inside, their expressions cold and unreadable. Skylar’s grin widened.

Here we go.

Chapter Four: Skylar

The door groaned on its hinges, and I smirked. Two guards stomped in, their boots scuffing the damp concrete floor. They had the swagger of men who thought themselves untouchable. Poor sods.

“Ah, brilliant,” I said, leaning back as far as the ropes would allow. “Room service. Took you long enough. What’s the special today? Gruel? Or gruel with a side of piss?”

The stocky one—short, squat, and with a face like a mashed potato—glared at me. “Shut up.”

“Ooh, a man of few words. Very intimidating,” I quipped. “But let me guess, you’re the muscle. And your mate here”—I nodded at the taller one, all sharp angles and a perpetual scowl—“he’s the brains, yeah? Or is that giving him too much credit?”

“Skylar,” Justice hissed, her tone sharp enough to cut steel. “Not now.”

I turned my cheeky grin on her and winked. “What? Just trying to make friends. Team-building and all that. You’re always going on about how I need to work on my people skills.”

Stocky shoved the taller one aside and stomped toward me, face flushed with anger. “You think this is funny, you little shit?”

“No, mate. I think you’re funny,” I said, cocking my head. “Tell me, do you practice that scowl in the mirror, or is it just a natural gift? Your mother must have wept when she saw you at the hospital.”

His fist came fast—too fast to dodge completely. Pain exploded across my cheek as my head snapped to the side. Stars danced in my vision, and I tasted blood.

“Skylar!” Justice’s voice rang out, sharp and panicked.

I rolled my jaw and spat blood onto the floor. “Bloody hell. That all you’ve got? My step dad hit harder than that, and she’s been dead for twenty years.”

Stocky growled and raised his fist again, but Tall stepped in. “Enough. We’re supposed to move them, not break them.”

“Shame,” I said, licking the blood from my lip. “I was just starting to enjoy myself.”

Tall ignored me, turning to Justice. “You first.”

Her face went pale, but she straightened her back and lifted her chin. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“That’s cute,” Tall said, grabbing her arm and yanking her upright. Her chair wobbled, the legs screeching against the concrete.

I saw red. “Oi, hands off her!” I snarled, twisting against the ropes. They bit into my wrists, but I didn’t care. “You don’t want to piss me off, mate. Trust me.”

Stocky laughed. “What are you gonna do, tied up like that? Glare us to death?”

The ropes around my wrists strained, and I felt something shift—just slightly. A splinter of hope lodged in my chest. Maybe the bastards hadn’t tied me as tight as they thought.

“Oh, believe me. That’s the least of your worries,” I said, grinning through the blood staining my teeth.

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