Page 60 of Reckless Pawn

"No, she doesn't." Houston answered from behind me, his voice hard and stern. "I’m handling it. And don't fucking call her that."

"Jesus fucking Christ. I can answer my own goddamned questions."

Axel's eyebrows climbed into his hairline.

"No, I don't," I continued, ignoring the brewing storm between Axel and Houston.

Someone snickered from the courtyard and I nearly lost my shit. Or maybe it was too late because that had already happened. Either way, I was done.

I turned to find Houston less than a foot behind me. Well into my personal space. "As for you," I slammed a finger into his chest, "stay the hell away from me."

He held up his hands. "I'm—"

"If you apologize one more fucking time I’m going to get my gun and shoot something. I am not some sad shell of a woman who has to be coddled and handled all of the time. Yes, bad things happened to me and I have worked my ass off to get over them. I am capable of making decisions about what my body can and cannot handle and if I'm having the best orgasm of my life up against a tree then by God that is my fucking right. Who fucking apologizes for that? Or better yet, who fucking stops when he's got his dick pressed against wet pussy?"

Right then something clicked in me and I realized what I'd just said in front of the entire club and the women they were partying with. I glanced around to see every face turned our way, watching the entire show.

All of the anger instantly deflated and I was left standing there in front of Houston with nothing but horror and humiliation. The tears were threatening again and I wasn't about to let them fall. Not again and especially not in front of an audience.

I turned my head to the side, but without fully looking at anyone again I said. "I'll be expecting that cell phone."

Then with as much dignity as I could muster in the face of my outburst and all that entailed I left the courtyard while throwing back a ‘don't you dare follow me’ as I went.

As far as I was concerned, Houston and I were finally done.

Chapter Twenty-One

Izzy

The moment I got inside my cabin with the door locked behind me, a tear splashed onto my cheek. I swiped it away quick and refused to let anymore fall. I wasn’t going to break this time around. I had to—

“Hello, Ms. Mazzeo.”

I whirled at the unfamiliar voice behind me as panic ripped through my chest. The fact I found one of the players from last night’s tournament at the casino standing next to my front door did nothing to ease my fear. The one that had come close to winning the final hand against Sam stood looming too close for comfort. My brain froze trying to remember his name.

I clutched my chest and took a step back. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone in my home outside of the club. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you to return home. That took longer than I expected though so we don’t have time to waste.”

He tipped his chin and before I could say anything else I was grabbed from behind and arms of steel banded around my waist.

I frantically twisted and turned in an attempt to get free, but the man at my back held too tight, making it difficult to breathe.

“I knew you looked familiar and it bugged me all night that I couldn’t remember how I knew you. Until I accidentally overheard Sam call you Isabella and it all clicked into place.”

I didn’t care about his reason for anything. I only knew I had to break free before he got me away from the club so I opened my mouth and screamed.

One of the arms solidly around my waist moved so my captor could clamp his hand over my mouth and that gave me a chance to move. I twisted as hard as I could and for a moment I thought I was loose. That was until his hand left my mouth and grabbed a fistful of hair to yank me back.

Instead of recapturing me against his chest, my thrashing for freedom sent us both sideways and me face first into the wall.

I cried out at the impact as pain exploded on the left side my face. Blinking, I tried to regain my focus as my brain threatened to disconnect. I feared any moment I would end up unconscious and all hope would be lost.

“Fighting only makes this harder on you, little girl. I wasn’t going to hurt you before I turned you over to your old man, but I will if you keep this up.”

Again, pure terror seized my muscles and my limbs tightened against the threat.

Ironically, when the hand in my hair forced me away from the wall with a spin toward the door, it gave me enough time and momentum to spin backward and bring my knee up to his groin.

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