“How’d you do it?” she asks, her curiosity briefly defusing the tension.
Too keyed up to prance around the truth of who I am, I lay it out for her. “Broke his neck and took out his friend with a knife to the carotid artery.”
“Clean. Smart.” Her blasé response might be intriguing, but she embellishes it in the most galling manner. “My brothers would have done the same. Well, messier no doubt and not at a place they didn’t own. Ballsy. Regardless, you could’ve given me a heads-up.”
Says the girl who bolted after convincing me that her brothers were beating the door down. The hypocrisy is staggering. Tension refueled.
“Your knuckles are cracked open,” she tacks on before I can get a word in.
I squeeze her hand, just enough to shoot my irritation into her slender fingers. “They sure are. Someone pissed me the hell off, and I took it out on the wall. We’re done talking.”
She actually listens, plucking a butterscotch candy from her bag and sucking the lifeblood out of it. Her seductive scent pervadesthe vehicle while we drive in quietude, but it’s anything but peaceful. The air is thick.
As I pull into the driveway, thehowquestions I’ve been biting back become too much to swallow. I shift the car into Park and set my frustrated leer on her. “How the hell did you know how to climb that wall and flip to a goddamn beam? Do you have any idea how insane that was? If you’d fallen, you would have died. And how did you arrange for the knocking and honking?”
She hurls her free hand into the air and tries to remove the other from my hold. Tries and fails. With a groan, she puffs a rogue strand of hair away from her face in exasperation. “I was practically raised in a circus, so everything I was taught—gymnastics, shooting, axe throwing, self-defense—had a bit of flair to it. Plus, there were ridges on those walls. I could do that in my sleep. And Uber was thebig master plan.” That is delivered with a razzing jazz hand. “I’m sure you’ve heard of it. You can pay those guys to do anything. I left detailed instructions, and he nailed it. That wasn’t even a scheme that required more than one brain cell.”
That explanation is equal measures impressive and infuriating.
I let go of her hand and swing up my door, hissing my demands, “No more goddamn circus climbing. And you are never to call an Uber again. It’s so fucking unsafe.” I slam it closed before she retorts.
But she’s out, rounding the hood to sidle up beside me within seconds. “Yeah. Okay. It’ssorisky. That’s why millions of Americans use them every day.”
Pausing my trek, I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes in an attempt to center myself, but revolting images flash behind my lids—Rena swinging to that beam, those monsters grabbing her, unspeakable horrors being her future—so that shit doesn’t work.
Scooping her up before she can resist, I dash up the porch stairs with her slung over my shoulder, unlock the door, and tromp inside, immediately activating the alarm. Her backpack slides to the floor with a thump. She must sense this isn’t playful because she’s snarling and smacking my back. I am way beyond that affecting me.
After a quick jaunt into the bedroom to retrieve what I need from my bag, I head back out to the family room in the center of the house. The plush couches are surrounded by narrow wood columns, connected to curved ceiling beams. It’s gorgeous architecture. But presently, I only care how they serve my current purpose.
Rena is still spouting irate ramblings as I drop her onto the arm of the couch, grab her wrists, and cuff them around the column that is slightly to the left of her body. The handcuffs have an extra-long chain between them, so the reach is spot-on. She gasps, but she’s fucking speechless, which, in my harried state, sings like a victory chant.
I whip out my phone and press the speed-dial button for the three-a.m. friend who will be most willing to carry out the plan I have in mind. Without attempting to ground me.
At the precise moment that he answers, Rena finds her words. “Did you just fucking cuff me to a damn pillar?”
“Yeah.” I raise an admonishing palm at her. “And you fucking seduced me and took off. We’re not playing nice anymore, Little Moon.”
“You calling me during some kinky-ass shit, Tytan?” Gage’s booming tenor carries a hefty dose of amusement through the phone.
“I wish,” I wheeze, suddenly hit with visions I would actually welcome, but I push them away and begin pacing. “She ran. I caught her and cuffed her.”
To anyone else, that explanation would draw some scrutiny, but not the Big Guy. “Good,” he acclaims. “That’s what I’d do, at a minimum.”
A strangled bleat bellows from somewhere in the background, followed by a thump.
“Did I catch you in the middle of something?” I ask.
Before he can answer, the pink-and-pierced peanut gallery chimes with another acute observation and an empty threat. “This is a whole new side to Ty. I’m sure my brothers would—”
“Oh, baby girl.” I halt my stride, cocking my head in disappointment. “Don’t go crying for your brothers now. You made your damn choice.”
Her hazel eyes blow wide and wild. “Did I? Because I remember leaving you in the lurch with a stiff dick.”
“And I recall saving your ass when I should’ve been spanking it,” I volley through a ragged breath.
“Well, okay then,” she mutters. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Returning to my call, I finish relaying my plan. “I’m about to take out a houseful of assholes who were after her. From what the one guy said, I’d expect two dozen.”
