Page 7 of Chase's Kind of Trouble
My. Girl.
“You like roughing up women, little man? How does this feel? You like someone bigger than you treating you rough?”
He struggles against my hold as my head fills with her. Her scent. Her pretty gaze glued on mine, awareness swirling behind them when she knew I was there to keep her safe.
I swallow hard as I picture the delicate line of flowers from her wrist to her elbow.
My girl.
I’ve already decided whoever the gorgeous creature is that she’s mine. My future.
My future wife.
I’m snapped back into my body…the one that’s asphyxiating her attacker when she grabs my arm.
“Stop!” She begs through tears, voice torn to shreds, eyes begging me so desperately that a sharp pain pierces my sternum. “Don’t kill him.”
“I must make sure?—”
“Crash!” Someone behind me shouts my call sign, a surefire way to get my attention when nothing else will. “Keep your head, man!”
My head? My head is in the right fucking place. In the murder zone.
“Step back, honey. I’m gonna deal with this fucker so you never have to again.”
Her hand falls away, a look of disbelief clearing the tears from her gaze.
“You piece of shit.” Breathing fire, I go back to my mission and wring and wring, waiting on his final breath. “You scared her.”
“Crash! Stop!”
Before the man codes in my palm, there are hands all over me. Voices. People grabbing him, tackling me, pulling us apart.
“No!” I bellow, panting, trying to throw them off of me, until Kane gets in my face and shakes me by the shoulders.
“Chase. Go to her. Go.”
No. Must. Destroy.
“Go!” He shoves me with all of his body-weight, forcing me toward the restaurant’s back door. “Get your shit together before you talk to her. She needs you. We’ve got the bastard and don’t worry, we won’t be easy on him.”
I’m suddenly acutely aware of everything. The big fucking picture. No more furious rage. No more crashing fury rampaging my insides.
She needs me.
Me. No one else.
Chest pumping, pulse still in the danger zone, I search the darkness for her, burning up with a different kind of fuel. This kind burns deep in the pit of my body. My loins. My essence.
When I see her, every hair on my body stands up.
God. Help. Me.
I was going to stay away. Wasn’t going to taint her innocence with the likes of me. But that’s done.
This is happening.
She’s crying again. Head bent, wrecked braid of hair on her shoulder. One of my team’s girls is comforting her, but I barely notice the other woman.
