Page 55 of Protector

Something came over her at his words, and she raked her fingernails down the sides of his face with a scream, driving her knee into his gut over and over again, before retrieving a boning knife from the carpet.

The blade was all wrong for what she was trying to do. It wasn’t effective. She was exerting too much energy and would’ve exhausted herself long before the asshole was close to death.

If we were ever forced to resort to hand-to-hand combat, we stuck with trench knives. The brass knuckle handle provided better stability and control.

Bear met my stare and shook his head ever so slightly, urging me to call it off. Rage flooded my veins, and I nodded. It had gone on long enough. She should’ve been at home with our daughters, not holed up in a shitty motel room like some half-naked hit woman.

Her hand shook violently as she pressed the blade to the superficial wound at his throat, and I moved toward her. “Celia—”

“Better listen to your man, Ma. He’s the one in ch—”

“You stay quiet, and I won’t cut out your tongue,” she forced out through clenched teeth before digging the tip of the blade into his skin. “Good and quiet.”

I waited for her to finish it, but she stood frozen, the breath bursting in and out of her lungs. Torch’s boot caught the edge of the bed as he moved closer, and she flinched before bringing her elbows in close to her body as if trying to become smaller.

My men looked to me, and I held up a hand, signaling for them to wait. Her green eyes widened when I moved closer, darting back and forth between the gangbanger and me.

“Can’t do it, can you?” he taunted. “That’s okay, Ma. I’ll still hold up my end of our agreement.”

I jumped in surprise when Celia snapped and drove her fist into his jaw with a quick, high-pitched burst of laughter.

It wasn’t a laugh of amusement, but one of sheer panic. The woman in front of me wasn’t my wife, she was little more than a wounded animal that had been cornered.

Crossbones’ jaw clenched, and he tightened his grip, only holding himself back on my orders. “Pres?”

Ignoring everything I knew, I latched onto her upper arms and pulled back, feeling the vibrations of her body beneath my palms. I managed to keep my voice low and even as I said, “I need you to come with me, darlin’.”

She jerked out of my grasp and angled her chin up at me, proudly displaying a split lip and the beginnings of a bruise forming across her cheek. “You need to leave. I’m in the middle of something.”

“In the middle of somethin’? Like what? Gettin’ yourself killed? Fuckin’ Christ, Celia!” I ran my hand through my hair, fighting to calm down.

I’d save my rage for the gangbanger, taking my time to make his death as slow and painful as possible. By the time I sent him to the Reaper, I doubted there’d be much left of him.

Her nostrils flared. “I was doing just fine before you barged in—”

“You weren’t,” I stated flatly. I nodded to Crossbones, and he released the gangbanger to me. He immediately cradled his left arm, so that was the one I latched onto as I dragged him back over to her. “What possessed you to come here?”

“Why do you think she was here,hijo de puta?” he spat. “She needed another taste; another reminder that she’s nothing but a toy to be used and broken. A hole—”

This time it was Comedian who stepped forward and drove a fist into the guy’s gut, silencing him. He went to his knees with a loud exhale. I took advantage of the position and caught his left arm on the way down, forcing it over my thigh until I felt the bones give beneath my hands and heard the snap.

Bear raised an eyebrow in question as the gangbanger collapsed near my boots with a moan. Initially, we’d agreed to be in and out, saving the torture for when we were back at the clubhouse. That was before I knew she was here, though.

Ignoring his pointed stare, I knelt over the gangbanger with a grin. “You see what I did there, Celia? You hyperextended his arm. I broke it.”

His eyes rolled back in his head as I forced his jaw up, exposing his mangled neck. Feeling generous, I decided to let him sleep it off for a few minutes. With days, maybe even weeks, of torture in store, he needed to keep his strength up.

“Pres?” Comedian interrupted, but I continued.

“Looks like you tried to slit his throat, but you didn’t get the blade deep enough. You were using the wrong knife—”

“Pres?”

“Now, it’s obvious you came here to kill him, but he’s still breathing. So, you tell me where you had it all under control—”

“Grey!” Comedian snapped, and I jerked my head up.

Celia had backed herself into a corner near the bed, wincing as she examined her fist. She cradled it in her arm, panting like she had when she was in labor with the girls. It was her eyes though that stopped me in my tracks; staring through me to an enemy no one else could see.

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