Page 60 of Burn the World Down


Font Size:

“Don’t speak to me like that, asshole.”

It was clear they’d both been drinking.

“Stay here.” Nash shoved forward.

There was no way I was staying there. I followed him. Before we reached them, one man swung a fist and connected with the other man’s jaw. The victim shouted.

A scuffle broke out. A dealer stepped in, trying to de-escalate the situation, but they knocked into him and sent the man sprawling to the floor.

The pair swung around, still hitting each other, and stumbled into a trio of young women. The ladies fell in a tangle, knocking over chairs.

I watched as Nash charged in.

He grabbed one man by the back of his shirt. “Cool it.”

“Screw you! Let me at him.”

I watched, mesmerized, as Nash swept the man’s legs out from under him. It was a fast, simple move. The man collapsed and hit the floor with anoof.

The second man was still riled. He rushed at Nash from behind.

“Nash!” I yelled.

He didn’t need my help. Like he sensed it, he whirled, then ducked the man’s sloppy punch.

Nash took a step forward, then hit the man in the back of the head. He fell forward, and hit the nearby poker table headfirst, then collapsed with a groan.

The look on Nash’s face was one of total control, edged with impatience. Leaning over, he flipped the first man onto his stomach.

“Stay down.” He did the same at the second man. Then he lifted a hand and waved. I spotted security guards on their way.

Nash hadn’t hesitated. He’d charged in, knowing he could handle the situation.

I shifted on my feet, energy filling me. No, it was more than that. I pressed my thighs together. I was turned on.

God. I wasn’t usually one to be turned on by violence. But it wasn’t the violence that got to me, it was Nash. His strength, competence.

I watched him speak briefly with the security team. Two security guards hauled the brawling men to their feet.

Then Nash looked at me.

I shifted again, trying to control my desire. His gaze narrowed on me, and I licked my lips.

CHAPTER 21

NASH

Adrenaline was pumping through me.

A part of me felt Georgie watching, and I didn’t want to look at her. She’d seen the violent side of me. The darkness trained to kill.

The part of me that liked to kill.

There was a reason I was good at it. And there it was. The reason I’ve never gone back to Georgie. The ugliness that I knew no one, except my fellow assassins, could understand.

I didn’t kill for pleasure, but taking down someone who deserved it didn’t bother me one bit.

I lifted my head and my gaze locked with hers.