Page 32 of Bitter Desire
She cried out when he yanked her, slamming her face down onto the ground. I was going to hurt him. She rolled over and spit in his face. “Fucker!”
That was my girl. My strong fucking beautiful girl.
She was fighting back and I felt a rush of pride, but even so the man was too big for her and she was on the ground. This wasn’t good. She needed me and she needed me now. The man raised his hand and I lunged forward, grabbing his hand, stopping the slap that Honey seemed resigned to take. She wasn’t even trying to get away. We were going to have to discuss that later when I went over self defense with her.
She needed to always try and escape. It didn’t matter if it was a lost cause. The goal was to make it as inconvenient as possible for her attacker to continue.
“I’m going to kill you,” I told the man, the calm that usually washed over me when I was in the middle of a hit was here now, settling around me like an old coat. I knew this. I wasn’t unsure or worried about what would come next. That wasn’t a mystery but the how, now that was still yet to be discovered.
“Who the fuck are you?”
I smiled, leaning in close to him. I could see him now in the red light of the sign. He had a beard, wide set eyes that I was sure made him look unassuming in the light of day and was utterly nondescript. The perfect face to forget. No wonder he had been hired to grab Honey. Even if she got away it would be hard to ID him.
Good thing I didn’t plan on letting him go.
“I’m Lawson Sokolov, and you don’t fuck with me.”
His eyes widened in recognition and he shook his head, trying to step away from me but I grabbed his shirt, stopping him. “I didn’t know,” he told me. I didn’t care, didn’t give a fuck if he knew or not, because he’d done it to Honey.
It didn’t matter if she was mine or not. No one touched her. I was going to make sure the message was sent loud and clear with this pissant. I moved, dragging him away from Honey and I heard her push away from us, hands and feet scrabbling against the floor until she bumped into the couch at her back. I wanted to go to her, but I couldn't, not with this sonofabitch in front of me. I slammed my fist into his stomach, knocking the air out of him. He fell into a desk and I grabbed his collar, dragging him behind me, further into the darkness. I didn't want her to see what I was about to do.
I didn't want her to have that on her hands. In her mind. Even if she knew what I did tonight, I didn’t want her to have the memory of it burned into her brain. I hit the man again, in the jaw and his head snapped back. I kept moving forward and hit him again, this time in the throat, crushing his windpipe. He whimpered, hands flying to his neck. I let him go, dropping him to the floor and that was when I heard the clatter of a knife falling from his pocket. I dropped down, plucking the knife up as I straddled him, leaning in close and hitting the release on the knife with a practiced move. It was a switchblade, the cool weight of it against my hand familiar as an old friend.
I put the knife under his chin, tipping his head back. “You were going to use this on her?” I asked him, pressing the knife into his skin. I knew I cut him when he whimpered, and I pressed deeper. I wanted this fucker to know what it felt like to be scared, to be helpless and to have this knife, the knife he’d brought to use on my beautiful girl, at his throat and making him bleed. I’d fucking drown him in his own blood before I was done with this piece of shit. He nodded, a slight jerk of his head and moaned and I knew the answer was yes.
Yes. He had brought this to use on her. On Honey. On my girl. My princess.
“I’m going to fucking show you how it feels. I don’t know about you, but I think I’ll enjoy it,” I told him. I was focused now; the world could have fallen down around me and I wouldn't have deviated from what I was doing. Which was making this manhurt. I moved the knife from his neck and found the space at his abdomen that would hurt like a bitch but wouldn’t kill him. I could make this last. Slow and terrible until I knew what I wanted, which was who sent him. I ripped the bottom of his shirt from him and shoved it into his mouth muffling his cries. I didn’t need him crying to Honey, making her hear him beg me to stop. Not after what he’d tried to do to her.
I stabbed him, the knife sliding in, and he cried out, but the gag did its work and when I stabbed him again, he bit down on the cloth. Good. He had some sort of fucking back bone to him.
“I was right, I did fucking enjoy that. How about you, huh?” I asked him, giving his face a slap as I twisted the blade in his side. He writhed in pain, but I forced him to stay still, leveraging my body against his to pin him where I had him. “I said,how about you, fucker?” I yanked the blade out and he howled, back bowing off the floor in pain.
From the dark, I heard Honey whimper. ““Law, please, don’t.”
My girl had a soft heart. She would ask me to stop. But I couldn’t. She would see that this was all for a reason. That it was for her that I had to do this. Whoever had sent this man had to know she was off limits. And that meant I had to see it through.
“I have to, Honey,” I told her, willing her to understand, but I heard her muffled sob. She might not understand this now, but she would. I would explain it to her. I stood from where I was and yanked the man up with me, the knife at his throat again as I forced him to walk towards the exit.
“I’m going to kill you if you don’t move. Now fucking walk.”
He sucked in a wheezing breath and staggered forward. “You’re going to kill me anyways. I know-I know who you are.”
“Then you shouldn't have fucked with my girl.”
“Didn’t know she was yours.”
I shrugged, but he didn’t see. It didn't matter. I didn’t explain that to trash like this. He was a bottom feeder out to make a quick buck. I could smell it on him without asking him. I’d started out with this type and could spot it a mile away. Whoever had hired him hadn’t really cared what happened to him, which suited me fine.
I was going to send him back to them in pieces.
Even if they didn’t give a shit about it, I was going to make sure this idiot told everyone he knew what had happened to him, and who had done it. I wanted them to know it was me. But most importantly, I wanted him to tell them why I’d done it. His employers weren't going to find someone so easy to take the job next time they decided to come after Honey.
The word would be out, and she’d be safe. At least from the idiots. The rest would know she was mine. They were smart enough to steer clear. It took someone truly clueless to not know it, which was what this fucker was. I shoved him towards the door and kicked it open, not giving a shit if it sent off an alarm. I wanted the alarm. Let it bring them all down on my head. I’d get my hands on that fucking MC then and get it out of her who had hired her for this fucking shit.
She had to know more than the man I had in my hands.
Taylor was there when I walked out into the night with the bleeding man. He raised an eyebrow at us but said nothing and came forward, ready to get his hands dirty. Good man. Taylor was clean now, same as me, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to be a soldier when the occasion called for it. Kidnapping Honey was one of those situations.
