Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I’m only half paying attention to the guys next to me as they try to discuss the game with me. Tor stops to squeeze through a group, and Rodney’s right behind her. I watch as he places his hand on the small of her back, a little too low on her back. I can see the muscles in her shoulders tense as they stop beside me, and his hand moves away from her. I want to punch him right in the face for touching her like that, but this is not the place do that.
The crowd explodes in fits of screams as the clock runs out of time. Rodney shakes me excitedly. “The only thing that could make this better would be if I could take that girl of yours home with me.” He grins.
My fingers clench inside my palms, and I attempt to laugh it off.
“Seriously,” he says, slightly slurring. He reaches for Tor and I grit my teeth. I watch as he sweeps a stray tendril of hair from her face. It takes every piece of restraint I own to control myself. “How much you want for her?”
Tor bats his hand away, narrowing her eyes at me as though this is somehow my fault.
Rodney grins, his eyes fixing on mine. “Come on, all you ever have around you are whores. Can’t share?”
I grab her hand and yank her to me, wrapping an arm around her waist. I glare at Rodney, my pulse throbbing in my temples, my chest heaving from the sudden anger building inside it like a tank. “Fucking apologize to her,” I growl, my jaw tightly clenched. It feels like my heart’s beating in the back of my damn throat.
He rolls his eyes and lifts the beer back to his mouth. “I was just having fun, JP. Calm the hell down.” I can feel the veins in my neck pop. He takes a short sip, licking the froth from his mouth. His gaze veers back to Tor and one corner of his thin lips curve into a smart-ass grin.
Everything inside me ignites. I grab him by the back of his head and smash his face into the bar. I drag him away from the bar and slam him against the wall, repeatedly smashing his skull against it. His hands claw at my arms and he tries to twist free of my hold, but there is no way in hell I am letting him go. “Learn some fucking respect,” I shout as I continue to violently bash his head against the wall. The back of his head is bleeding, and the larger the cardinal-red spot grows, the more I want to keep going.
I hear the other men in the room shout. Tor is screaming, yelling at me to stop. It’s all muffled background noise to the loud hammering of my own pulse. I want to kill this fucker.
“Let him go!”
“Get off him!”
Strangers are shouting, and I know it’s only a matter of time before these guys try to tear me off of him. Something bumps against the back of my knee. Suddenly Tor is hanging off my arm.
She grabs my chin, turning my face toward her. Her eyes lock with mine, wide and blue, and pleading. “Jude.” She shakes her head. “Stop.”
I release Rodney and he slumps down the wall, barely coherent.
“You okay?” she asks, her soft hands still clinging to my face.
I’m breathing heavily, and all I can do is shake my head no at first. After several deep breaths, I shout, “Fuck no! I want to kill him.”
“Look at me.” I look at her, only her. “Just breathe. Calm. Non-murderous thoughts.” She smiles, and the anger starts to dissipate. She’s like a bright fucking light, pulling me back from the darkness.
My pulse is slowing, my breathing falling more even, and for a second I find myself thinking she may be the one thing that can save me from myself. Even with all she’s been through, she still has this innocence to her that fucking consumes me, and I want to protect that. I refuse to let her become tainted by the filth that surrounds me.
“Nobody's gonna talk to you like that!” I take a calming breath.
There’s understanding in her eyes as she nods. “It’s fine.” She glances over her shoulder at the room of people staring. “Look, let’s get out of here.”
I turn. All eyes are fixed on us. It’s apparent none of these pansy-ass business men know how to handle a 225-pound pissed-off guy. I take a step and my foot hits something. There’s a groan from the floor. I look down to see a guy lying on the floor, his knees bent to his chest, his hands tucked between his thighs cupping his junk, and his eyes squeezed shut.
“Yeah, he was about to bottle you over the head,” Tor explains, shrugging. I glance up at her, and a pleased grin makes its way onto my lips. Damn, that shouldn’t be hot, but it is.