Page 14 of Dublin Beast

Logan pushes off the wall, muttering something about babysitting bulldogs, and I take another sip of my coffee. We’re about to merge into the shuffle of foot traffic when I make the mistake of glancing across the road.

Ponytail girl is standing between Mason and the playboy—obviously he’s the lure to this fishing expedition. A pretty face to lower her guard before the shark moves in.

Even with her back to me, I see the tension in her shoulders. She’s not resisting, but she knows something is wrong. I study the subtle shift in her posture, the way her weight transfers to the balls of her feet.

I’ve seen it dozens of times in fighters who realize too late they are outmatched.

The playboy says something and Mason gestures toward the car. There’s a beat of hesitation before she follows their lead.

No. Don’t fucking do it, ponytail.But no matter how strongly I send the mental warning, she keeps going. Another step and she’ll be in the car, and what happens next won’t end well for her.

I don’t think. Imove.

My coffee drops to the pavement, splashing up my pant leg as I cross the street in a few long, angry strides. Logan curses and then shouts something behind me, but I can’t hear it over the rush of adrenaline in my ears.

The moment Mason grips her arm, it’s over.

I’m already swinging.

My fist collides with his jaw, the impact snapping his head to the side. The familiar shock of bone against bone travels up my arm, a sensation I crave in the ring.

The playboy barely has time to react before I send him crashing into the side of the car with a well-placed shove.

Someone shouts and the driver jumps out of the car to join the fun. “Mr. Mason, are you?—”

I lay him out with a spinning backhand and pull the girl behind me. Her body is warm against my back, a strangled, feminine cry slipping from her perfect lips.

Mason scrambles to his feet, shaking off the hit with a grunt. He spits blood onto the pavement as he levels a glare at me. “Who the fuck do you think you?—”

He gets a good look at me then, and his entire posture hardens. Recognition flashes in his eyes and then he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and glares. “You’re a long way from home, fucknut. This isn’t your business.”

“That’s for damned sure. Exploiting women as a commodity is the business of cowards and scum.” The words taste bitter on my tongue, memories of the girls my brothers and I have rescued from trafficking rings fueling my anger.

The playboy coughs, muttering a curse, but Mason just smiles, slow and mean.

“You’ve got no idea what you stepped into, Irish.”

I raise my palms. “And I have no interest in finding out. Consider this a problem with impulse control. I heard the lady’s call for help, and I responded without thinking.”

His gaze narrows. “She didn’t call for help.”

I feign surprise. “She didn’t? Och, my bad, mate. I could’ve sworn. My deepest apologies.”

Backing away, I grab the woman and frog march her the hell away from them, not stopping until we’re down the block and around the corner. My hand spans the small of her back, guiding her through the crowd with the same protective instinct that drives me when I’m with Laine, Piper, or Nora.

I try not to look too closely at that and chalk it up to a stressful few days. Me blowing off some steam was inevitable. This was simply my frustration getting away on me. That’s it. That’s all.

I take a deep breath and focus on the woman. “It’s fine now, lass. You’re safe?—”

The right cross to my cheek spins my head on a pike before she shoves me back into the brick wall behind me. Stars explode behind my eyes, pain blooming across my face. Fecking hell, for a woman, she packs one hell of a punch.

“What thehellis wrong with you?” she hisses, eyes blazing with fury. She pushes forward, her face inches from mine. “You ruinedeverything!”

I stare at her, my brain stuttering to catch up. She’s not scared. She’s not relieved. She’spissed. Her ample chest heaves with each angry breath, color high on those sharp cheekbones.

I’m not sure when I took the off-ramp from reality, but if I didn’t know better, I’d swear this firecracker wanted to be taken.

Huh. I did not see that coming.

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