Page 61 of Tabitha

River swears a blue streak, and I blink at his choice of words. “Is that even physically possible?”

He gives a huff of laughter, but doesn’t answer.

A particularly high-pitched yip threatens to tear out my heart, and I burst through the tree line. I take in the scene at a glance. The two men are struggling to chain Rocky to the porch, the poor dog worked into a frenzy as he tries to keep them from entering the house. One man is holding a large, thin stick that he’s using as a whip, and the other one is wielding a wicked bowie knife.

I immediately recognize both men—Steve and Trevor.

Even from this distance, I spot the thin lines they’ve carved into the dog, blood coating his fur and splattering the porch. Without hesitation, I draw my knives before they’re even aware of my presence and send the blades flying.

The first blade lands in Steve’s shoulder, while the other knife sinks deep into Trevor’s thigh. Both men curse viciously, brandishing their weapons as they whirl to face the threat. I charge the closest man, dropping low, taking Steve out at the knees. The blade in his shoulder sinks deeper, and his scream of agony is like music to my ears.

My blood sings at the pure joy of battle. With a vicious smile, I yank the knife from Trevor’s leg, barely lifting it in time to deflect the blade he has aimed to slice my carotid.

Even as I roll out of range, a dozen shots ring out simultaneously.

I come up in a crouch, my bloody knife at the ready. I’m not surprised to see my guys holding their weapons, chests heaving, rage giving them almost feral expressions.

What does surprise me is Banks standing on the opposite side of the property, gun drawn. River and Pierce keep their guns pointed at the dead men, while Gage and Bast turn their weapons toward Banks.

Much to my disappointment, he lowers his weapon to his side. A muscle ticks in his jaw, the man absolutely furious, and I’m not sure if it’s directed at me or the fact that he had to gun down his own men.

I reluctantly lower my weapon and push to my feet, holding my blade at the ready as I approach the two intruders. It only takes a quick glance to see that the two men are very dead, and I scowl down at the bodies.

“Are you…pouting?” River comes to a stop at my side, his tone incredulous.

I purse my lips, refusing to look at him and just shrug. “Maybe.”

“We rescued you!” he sputters, seeming to be a little lost when he trails after me as I circle the bodies.

I peer at him from the corner of my eye and lift a brow in challenge. “Did I look like I needed help?”

He opens his mouth, closes it, then mutters something under his breath about ungrateful women as he stalks away.

I instinctively look toward Pierce for a translation, and he shrugs. “I think you hurt his feelings.”

I only blink, more concerned about River than the two dead men at my feet. “Really?”

I don’t have a chance to figure out the riddle before Banks is striding toward me with a scowl. “Are you okay?”

“Of course.” I brush off his question, waving a hand at the bodies. “What kind of sadistic assholes torture an innocent dog?”

Banks scans my face, then slightly relaxes. “I apologize for my men. I want you to know that I would never condone what they did.”

I narrow my eyes as I study him, and against my better judgment, I believe him. Oh, he absolutely ordered his men to break into the house, and he would have no problem killing a dog, but apparently, he draws the line at torturing animals.

While he might be a murderer, he’s a polite murderer, at least.

I glance at River, who is still pouting, his back turned to me as he and Gage check over Rocky. I grimace, then nod toward Banks. “Thank you for the rescue.”

The words taste like ash in my mouth.

Banks’ furious expression cracks, appreciation filling his brown eyes, and his lips twitch. “Something tells me that our intervention wasn’t needed.”

I give a modest shrug, then reluctantly sheathe my blade. Before I can retrieve the other knife, Banks hooks his boot under Steve’s shoulder and flips the body onto its back. He crouches, yanks out the blade, then wipes the blood off on the corpse before flipping the knife and offering it to me, hilt first.

Against my will, I’m oddly charmed, and I accept the offer. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about the bodies.” Banks rises to his feet, completely ignoring the other men. “I’ll have them removed immediately.”

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