Michel didn’t know which to grab for, his dick or his throat.And his men weren’t exactly fast on the response time.They were more the hired guns you found on a television show.Big, beefy and dumber than a box of rocks.Not knowing how to react without guidance.
Something Lance could and would use to his advantage.They’d been so confident they’d not tied his legs to the chair, so he got to his feet and grabbed Michel around the neck.
“Guns down or I snap his neck.”
Part of him, the angry part, hoped they wouldn’t so he could follow through on his threat.When they did, he directed them to kick them away, as well as the knives they carried.He’d made it part of his job to know what they carried and when, so he knew there weren’t additional backup pieces on their ankles like any good bodyguard would have.They thought they could get away with bullying most people.
Circling, they did a little dance until he made it to the door.It was open—another sign of their arrogance.
“One last thing.I’m going to need you both to strip.”
“What the fuck?”The men were more indignant now than when he’d demanded they give up their sidearms.
Explains so much.
Tightening his grip around Michel’s neck, Lance cocked an eyebrow.“Really want to challenge me here?”
“Do as he fucking says,” Michel spat.“You’re going to fucking die for this, man.”
“We all have to go sometime.”He didn’t loosen his hold, nor did he take his gaze from the bodyguards currently in various stages of undress.They stripped down to their boxers.
“Toss ‘em here.”
More grumbling but they listened, apparently understanding he wasn’t joking about hurting their boss.Head canted to the left, he kicked the clothing outside behind him and Michel.
“Icouldlet it go like this, but you fucking pissed me off.Boxers too.Toss them over.Although, I have to say, I love the little lightning bolts on yours.”Muttered curses as they stood naked and kicked the boxers at him.Their large hands hovered to cover their tiny junk.“Shameful, it’s a bit like false advertising.Think you’re overselling it a bit.The fact you only need one hand to cover yourself doesn’t exactly go promising lightning bolts to your partners.She, or he, no judgement, deserves more.”
Lance took the boxers out of the room with his foot and stepped through, Michel still trapped and swearing.
“You boys play nice now.”He kicked the metal door shut and locked it from the outside.Seconds later, he slammed Michel up against the side.“How’s about you and me go pay your old man a visit?”
Fear leaked into Michel’s gaze but Lance didn’t pay it any mind.He coldcocked Michel and at the last minute caught him from sliding to the floor.He wasn’t gentle about moving him from the building they’d brought him to and tossing him in the back of the SUV waiting out front.In a few moments, he had him trussed up like a Christmas pig and was slipping behind the wheel.
Wiping away the blood that continued dripping down his face so he could see better, Lance huffed a few shallow breaths to try to get back in control.His vision was blurry and he was fairly confident he had a few busted ribs.
He glanced at his reflection in the rearview and shrugged.The blood wouldn’t stop and right now, he didn’t have time to deal with it.He needed to get to his boss before the man’s dick son woke.
“I need a fucking vacation.”He pushed the start button and opened the center console.The wad of napkins didn’t shock him, he had never seen Michel without food close to his mouth.Hence the need for numerous napkins.
Placing some to the gash, he shrugged as they stuck to the open wound on his head.Putting the car in gear, he drove away from the warehouse district he had been in.As he got onto the interstate, he flicked the bloodied napkin away and reached for more, covering the open injury once again.
The sun glinted down on the road and cars ahead of him, making him squint and wish for his sunglasses.Hell, he wished for a dark room and a bed.And Jasmine.
* * * *
Jasmine crossed her legs and cocked an eyebrow at the man facing her behind the large, dark-wood desk.This wasn’t anything new to her, men trying to intimidate her.Especially ones of his ilk, used to women kowtowing before him, scared of his status or impressed by his money.
She was neither.Cautious?Sure.But she’d been across from men far worse than him.It was basically a standoff.Who would flinch first?Who would break?
Not her.
And it wasn’t.Fifteen minutes of simply sitting there until a knock at the door pulled Dusan’s attention from her.He scowled.
“Enter.”
The door opened, but she continued facing the man.
“What is it?I’m busy here.”
