Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Ambrielle was so close to panic she was ready to sink her teeth into the giant’s arm to get him to see her. She was no fairy princess, and she never would be. Her man was in trouble, and if these men were so damn full of themselves they couldn’t stop and listen to her, she was going to take matters into her own hands. She was close enough to Destroyer that she felt the scabbard under the jacket he wore.
Sliding her free hand beneath the loose leather as she matched his step, she felt him automatically loosening his grip on her as she complied. She slid the blade from the scabbard, turned and was free, sprinting toward the patio door. Destroyer bit back a curse and caught her by her hair just as she was opening the door.
“What the fuck, woman?”
“Let go of her,” a man’s voice said from behind them.
Destroyer half turned to face her savior. She slammed the palm without the knife on the hand in her hair, pushing it hard onto her scalp, and dropped low, spinning around to face him and then coming up fast. He was far taller than her, and the move didn’t work as well on anyone that much taller, so it didn’t break his hand, but he did release her.
“Not your business,” he snapped at the man standing behind them.
The man kept coming at them. He was not as tall as Destroyer, but he was lithe, and the way he moved told Ambrie he knew how to fight. His hair was light colored, and he wore a goatee on his square-cut jaw. She froze, turning the blade of the knife up against her wrist so it was impossible to see.
“He’s one of them,” she whispered unnecessarily to Destroyer and stepped back to give him a little room.
Destroyer remained in that same relaxed, loose-limbed stance. He didn’t look down at her, and instant knowledge came to her. The restaurant, which was so popular one couldn’t get in, had been scattered with only a few occupants in the front room. The back patio was lit with dim LED lights, but no one was dining out there. Although, when she glanced outside, there were shadowy figures toward the far corner beyond the last tall propane heater.
The room she and her friends were in had been loaded with Torpedo Ink members. Master had told her to be careful, that it was very likely Amanda had set her up in some way. He and the others had prepared for just this possibility.
ELEVEN
Where was Master? That was the question. The stranger increased his speed, his facial features hardening, hand sliding inside his immaculate suit jacket. Destroyer exploded into action, moving so fast he was almost a blur, pinning the hand that tried to draw the gun, one elbow slamming so hard into the man’s jaw that Ambrielle heard the audible crack.
Inwardly wincing, she realized this was her best shot at getting away from Destroyer. He didn’t need her to help take care of the assailant. She caught at the patio door and slipped outside, stepping immediately to one side, where the best cover was. The flooring was unexpected. It appeared to be hardwood but was actually a tile that could withstand the fog and wetness of the coastal weather.
Three striped black-and-white high-backed bench seats defined each space. The seats were wrapped around a table, with three wooden chairs on the other side. Three of the groupings of bench seats formed a triangle, creating a semiprivate space for diners. In between the seats were stairs with potted plants on them, further adding to the privacy of each space and giving Ambrielle something to hide behind.
For once in her life, she was happy she was on the smaller side. The plants at each of the stations were tall and lush, giving her adequate cover as she snuck closer to the small group of men huddled together at the far side of the patio. She realized that the overhead ceiling was retractable and that it was open, allowing the cool night air in. Around the edges of the rectangular opening was lacy fringe, and growing up the walls and the parts of the ceiling that didn’t pull back were vines with beautiful, healthy green leaves. She used the large blue pots on the floor to move between to get even closer.
Five men surrounded Master. Blood ran down his face above his right eye. He sat in a chair while the others stood. His hands were free, and so were his feet. That was a huge mistake on the part of his captors. Either they had no idea of what kind of man he was, or they were waiting for him to make his break.
“Call her out here,” the tallest man ordered. He had dirty-blond hair and hazel eyes. His chest was thick and his arms beefy with muscle.