Like Jeb, like David, this man is vicious, cruel, calculating.
There’s something else too, something darker, something that hints at a wickedness that surpasses both Jeb and David, if that’s possible. He smiles slowly, his fingers pushing back my hair before he lowers his hand over my shoulder and trails his fingers down my arm, cupping my elbow.
“My name is Malik; I’d like you to accompany me to my table. There are matters I wish to discuss with you,” he says, and though on the surface it sounds like a request, it comes out as an order, one I’m betting most people will follow or lose their life for disobeying him.
Except I’m not most people and I’m done with being ordered around tonight.
“I’m with someone,” I respond, pulling my arm out of his hold and pushing to my feet, hoping to God they hold me upright. My body betrays me, and I wobble from sheer exhaustion and light-headedness. Malik grabs my elbow once more and steps closer, an elegant smile plastered on his face.
Beyond the spotlight lighting up the cage, I hear a commotion, though I can’t make out what’s going on. It’s too bright where I am, and too dark in the rest of the warehouse to see clearly.
“Do you think that matters to me, Stopy Płomieniach?” he asks, ignoring whatever the fuck is going on behind us. I have no idea what Stopy Płomieniach means but I’m guessing it’s some kind of disparaging remark. Not that I give a shit. I’ve been called so many names that I’ve become immune to the harm they cause.
“It will matter to the people I came here with,” I retort, yanking my arm free from his hold and stepping away from him so that I can pull my dress back down over my hips.
“Oh, I’m not sure that I give a fuck,” he retorts with a shrug.
“Grim will have you shot if you start shit here tonight.”
“Hmm, yes, that is quite a predicament. Then again, everyone has a price. I’m certain whoever owns you now would gladly hand you over to me if the reward was high enough, wouldn’t you say?”
I take another step backwards, but he just enters my space again, unperturbed. Reaching for me, he grasps my hand before pressing a kiss against my knuckles. The second his lips brush against my skin, I can hear the familiar sound of Dax’s roar and York telling him to calm the fuck down. “See, you’re pissing them off,” I point out.
He smiles lazily at me. “Regardless, I tend to get what I want, by using force or by spending money. I have a lot of both.”
“I’m not someone you can buy, and if you try to take me then there’ll be consequences,” I bluff. Jeb would sell me out in a heartbeat and I no longer have faith in the Breakers to protect me like they once did. Still, putting up a front is a better option than crumbling.
“Everyone has a price, even you.”
He taps my nose and anger whirls inside my chest once again as another man tries to own me. It pisses me the fuck off. Maybe I brought this on myself. I knew dancing the way I did just now would garner attention, but it was because I couldn’t face the alternative. I’m just trying not to get raped, for fuck’s sake.
“I’m not for sale,” I grind out.
“Let’s see, shall we?” he asks, yanking me against his chest and kissing me on the mouth. I try to break free from his hold, but his arm wraps around my back as he crushes me against him.
I can feel the hard edge of his cock pressing through his trousers and against my lower belly.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
I’m about to bring my leg up and knee him in the balls when he’s forcefully pulled backwards by Dax who now has his throat gripped in a tight stranglehold.
“You do not fucking touch her, motherfucker!” Dax growls, his teeth bared in rage beneath his mask as he pushes Malik up against the wired fence of the cage. His body is whip tight and the veins beneath his skin popping with tension.
Malik smiles, the slow spread like black ink in water. He’s not afraid, not in the slightest. This is a game and I have the sense that he’s always the victor. He narrows his eyes at Dax and mutters something I can’t hear. Dax pulls back then slams his body into the wire once more, all whilst his grip on Malik’s throat tightens.
“Don’t!” I say, finding myself in the position of trying to prevent Dax from doing something that’s going to have consequences. Consequences that will end very swiftly in his death. Half a beat later, Beast walks into the cage with a gun held out in front of him and Grim by his side. I’m too shocked to do anything but stare at the unfolding events. Beast aims the gun at Dax’s head, pulling back the safety.
“Let him go or get a bullet in your brain,” he grinds out.
“He touched what isn’t his,” Dax grunts, not loosening his hold, but not tightening it either.
“Let. Him. Go. Or. Die!”
Dax doesn’t let go.
Beast doesn’t back down.
And my heart? My heart fucking splinters.
5
Dax
Motherfucking cunt! I will rip his heart out and gut the bastard for laying his hands on her.
I’ll fucking kill him.
I’ll kill the cunt.
I don’t care who he is. I don’t fucking care!
My fingers close around his throat and I squeeze, willing to get a bullet in my brain. In fact, I welcome it. Death doesn’t scare me. What’s happening inside my goddamn chest, that fucking scares me. I was done with her.
DONE.
Except now I’m not.
Her passion, her anger, her fear, her rage, it cut me deep and I’m fucking bleeding from the wounds. I’m bleeding out like a motherfucking soldier ripped apart in the crossfire of some fucking war he never wanted to be a part of.
It pours out of me. My blood drips from every goddamn pore.
She slayed me. Slayed us with one motherfucking dance.
She punched her fists into my chest and wrapped her fingers around my heart and squeezed. She’s reignited feelings that I’ve long since buried.
Right there in front of me, she just danced for her goddamn life and I saw her clearly for the first time since returning.
I saw her.
Kid.
My Kid.
She was afraid, angry, and utterly fucking breathtaking.
And now this dick, this fucking prick, put his hands on her.
No! No fucking way!
Not again.
Not again.
NOT AGAIN.
The only person who has the right to touch her is us. She’s fucking ours.
Ours.
Our Pen.
Our lucky penny…
You’re wrong. She doesn’t belong to the Breakers. She belongs to HIM.
To Jeb.
MOTHERFUCKER!
I squeeze tighter and wait for death.
6
Pen
Dax isn’t letting go. I can see the rage taking over. So I do the only thing I can, I step in. Tentatively, I place my hand on his arm. “Let him go,” I coerce, looking at Beast and begging him with my eyes not to pull the trigger. Beside him, Grim frowns and I know she sees something in me that she hadn’t before.
“Stay out of it,” Dax bites out, anger billowing off him, thick and pungent. He doesn’t look at me, he keeps his gaze fixed on Malik, refusing to release the arsehole. I wish I could see more of his face to try and gauge just how close he is to exploding. Then again, it doesn’t take a genius to know how he’s feeling. I just wish I knew why.