Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
The quiet wrapped itself around him like a comfortable blanket. He loved silence and solitude. Peace.
He’d been that way since he was a child. His mom was always on him to make friends, go out, and socialize with the other kids his age, but he preferred his company to any other. She’d been the first to call him Moose after the large solitary animals, and the name stuck.
As he reached his bike, a muffled yelp had his spine stiffening.
He stood still, not breathing, not even blinking as he tried to identify the source and location of the noise. It sounded far too much like a woman in distress for his comfort, but then it’d been so brief it could have been an animal.
Eleven… twelve… thirteen…
The seconds ticked by, and just as he was about to shake it off and climb on his bike, he heard it again, only louder and full of pain this time. He’d heard that sound before from his mother. The sound of a woman at the mercy of a man’s fists. Back then, he’d been too late to help her, but fuck if he’d be too late now.
Moose whipped around and ran toward the far side of the diner. As he neared the building, another desperate cry rang out.
“If you can’t pay with cash, I can think of another way to get what I’m owed,” a male’s voice growled.
Fury pumped through Moose’s veins. He knew that voice.
The sound of ripping fabric and a near-hysterical “No!” had Moose running at top speed.
He rounded the corner to the back of the building. Two of the men from the restaurant barely registered as an obstacle. He flew toward the one closest to Daisy. The fucker had one hand around her throat and the other on her bare stomach. Bare because he’d torn her fucking button-up open.
A red haze clouded his vision. Usually, his size and permanent scowl were enough to scare even the evilest of men, but tonight he wasn’t taking any chances. Moose charged forward, cocked his fist, and rammed it into the side of the fucker’s head.
The guy dropped like a stone.
Daisy screamed.
“Oh, fuck,” the other man shouted as he backed up.
Moose withdrew the pistol he never left home without and aimed it at the runner. “Don’t. Fucking. Move.” Once certain the asshole wouldn’t try to get away, he turned his attention to Daisy while keeping the gun pointed at the bastard.
Blood ran from a cut on her cheek, and one eye was already swelling. She snatched the edges of her ruined shirt, holding them together at her chest while staring at him with one wide eye.
“You okay?”
She nodded quickly.
Clearly, she wasn’t okay, but at least she wasn’t about to collapse at his feet.
“Might wanna close your eyes.”
She shook her head. “I can take it.”
The man he hit groaned. “You’re fucking dead.”
Moose laughed. “I’m feeling pretty alive right now. You saying you’re gonna kill me?”
“That’s fucking right,” he growled out the words with disdain.
Daisy gasped.
Moose laughed again. Amateurs. Without losing the aim on bastard number two, he grabbed the fucker at his feet by his zipped jacket and hauled him to his feet one-handed.
“The fuck?” The guy tried to scramble away, but Moose was fucking strong.
His solitary lifestyle wasn’t the only reason for his nickname.
Daisy scrambled out of the way as Moose rammed the guy against the wall.
“You like scaring women? Hitting ’em? Touching ’em when they don’t want your filthy hands on them? You like tearing their clothes when they won’t take ’em off for you?”
“What if I fucking do?” His defiant smirk sealed his fate.
The guy at the business end of Moose’s weapon snickered.
Fuck these two. Moose glanced to his left, lowered the gun a fraction, then fired. The man screamed in agony as the bullet ripped his thigh. Such a satisfying sound. He crumbled to the ground, cradling his leg and wailing.
One down, one to go.
Moose focused his attention back on the main aggressor. This was the kind of scum he couldn’t scare with words—the kind with two brain cells that couldn’t figure out how to work together.
He hit the guy’s face once. Then again. Blood spurted from his nose. Moose loved the feel of the man’s bones crunching against his balled fist. His victim screamed, but Moose rammed his fist into the guy’s stomach, turning the shout into a pained whoosh of air.
Daisy remained quiet, still huddled against the wall, clutching her shirt.
But she never looked away.
Moose released his captive, and the man slid to the ground like his crying friend. A swift kick to the ribs elicited another shout.
“How do you feel about assaulting women now?”
Slurred words came from his swollen lips.
“What was that? Couldn’t hear you.” Moose leaned down. “E-nun-ci-ate.”
“W-won’t touch her.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Daisy didn’t move from her spot plastered against the wall. Her tattered clothes, swollen face, and bloody cheek needed tending.