Page 13 of Torqued Off

That mother…

I’ll choose to wait on that information. It’ll only make her as pissed as I am. I’m dealing with a hot and horny Bree already; I don’t need her torqued off and, on a mission to retaliate, Bree on top of it. But I know what she’s suggesting…she wants to be bait.

And I’m not going to stand for it.

She stomps into the living room while I’m texting back my confirmation and then I hear the door open.

Woman!

I shove my phone in my pocket. “Bree! Bree!”

And then all I hear is a scream. One that makes my still burning blood and freezes it in its track.

“Bree?” I run around the corner and…

She’s gone.

7BREE

I struggle,but the dude that’s got his hand over my mouth is about three times my size. I try to elbow him, but he’s a steel mountain. I stomp on his foot, but his boots are steel-toed and it does more pain to my knee than to his toes. I wiggle my hardest, but he only squeezes my midsection tighter.

Stupid. I shouldn’t have just run out like that. But if he wasn’t going to start something, I was going to finish it.

I was so pent-up from his little amuse bouche of his sexual prowess that I had to do something. Scream. Pound a wall. Excuse myself to the bathroom and just finish myself off…yeah, probably should have chosen that one.

But then I would’ve been rubbing it out while Thane was getting mauled by this beast.

And even being as upset with him as I am for stopping our forward progress in the sexual arena, I’m kinda—really—don’t want that to happen.

Honestly, with his current situation, I saw that wince when he turned, I’m not sure he could defend himself.

Wait, was that a gun in his pants. Nah. It was all natural.

We make it through the back door and just as I expected Deacon nods to my bike.

He motions with a Glock. “Ride, or Mr. Mohawk upstairs gets it.”

“How did you find us?”

He looks down at my boots. “Tracking, baby.”

“Don’t call me that!” I growl.

Gun shots echo from inside of the building.

“Mr. Mohawk might be Mr. Dead.”

My stomach roils with acid. “You asshole.”

His eyebrows peak. “Seems you care…” He tsks me, before saying, “Gonna have to make you remember who you belong to. Took me way too long to find you to get back what’s mine…Bree…I mean—”

“Don’t.” My chest tightens and my heart beats fast.

I made some changes when I moved to Kildare. I altered my name to protect myself.

“Briana Russell,” he says smugly.

“Briana is dead.”

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