Page 35 of Harper’s Renegades

“I’m sorry, sir, I believe you have the wrong room. This is the women's,” I shared with a polite smile turning to face him.

“So this is the flower the Wright brothers are entertaining for tonight,” he said, his accent telling me he was from France. “I couldn’t pass up the chance to see what kind of woman they could convince to fuck them all.” Taking a step closer, he was now right in front of me, his warm breath hitting my cheek as he spoke. “That’s what they do, you know. They share… everything. What woman in her right mind would be split between three men? Especially one as stunning as yourself? Why not let me show you how a woman should be treated?” He reached out to brush his fingers down my arm, but I slapped him away.

“Do. Not. Touch. Me.” I snarled. “I don’t know who you are or what you think you know, but those brothers don’t take kindly to people touching what is theirs. Nor do I.”

“Doll,” Magnus’s voice snapped. Turning, I spot him in the doorway to the bathroom extending his hand out to me. “Come. Here.”

“Gladly,” I answered, giving one last scathing look at the Suit.

As I started to walk away, the Suit grabbed my arm and yanked me back, causing me to gasp as I crashed into his chest. “Not so fast, little flower. You haven’t heard my offer yet. It’s rude not to let a man finish speaking.”

Magnus moved faster than I’d ever seen before as he appeared right next to the Suit with a gun pointed at his temple. “Jean-Claude, I suggest you let her go. Now.”

“Ah, has the assassin finally found a treasure he can’t kill? Is that why you’re hiding her away here in Bali? Quite the romantic setting, don’t you think?” Jean-Claude rambled, seemingly unconcerned with the gun at his head. “You know you can’t kill me. Think of the mess it would make and the people it would anger,” he tutted with a click of his tongue.

“Don’t make me ask again. The second request comes as a bullet in your brain,” Magnus warned. “Remove your hand from my woman.”

Everything happened so fast I wasn’t sure what happened first, but the next thing I knew, Jean-Claude was licking my neck, followed by a gun going off. Blood splattered everywhere, and the only thing that kept me from being crushed by the now-dead man was Magnus pulling me to him. My brain refused to acknowledge what just happened as my hand gripped the royal blue shirt in front of my face. I could hear sounds that might be words, but my ears were ringing so loudly I couldn’t make them out.

My body was lifted, and I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror. Blood covered my hair, face, neck, and chest, while my eyes were wide, pupils blown in shock. Magnus wrapped my arms around his neck, and I clung to him, hiding my face against him. Sounds slowly started to return, allowing me to hear people yelling and screaming in a foreign language I didn’t recognize.

“What the fuck happened?” Ghost demanded. “She just went to the bathroom.”

“Jean-Claude cornered her, then I shot him,” Magnus answered, his voice deep as it echoed into my ear from his chest.

A hand brushed down my leg, and I flinched away, curling up tighter in Magnus’s hold. “It’s all right, gorgeous. It’s just me,” Jaxson soothed as he curled his hand around my ankle.

Hearing his voice, I relaxed a little, knowing he would keep me safe.

“Doll,” Magnus said, gripping my chin and lifting my head so I met his gaze. “I need to hand you off to one of the others. There are things I have to handle myself. They are going to take you back home and get you cleaned up and tucked into bed. I will be home as soon as I can,” Magnus instructed. I nodded, still not sure I could speak. He gave a grunt in acknowledgment and slammed his lips against mine, kissing me as if he could breathe life back into my shell-shocked mind. “Everything will be fine. You’re safe, and that’s all that matters, do you hear me?” Once again, I nodded, but that wasn’t good enough for him. “Use your words, doll.”

“Yes, I hear you,” I whispered. “Please hurry back to me. I’m scared they will take you away for killing that man. He said it would make people angry.”

Magnus leaned his forehead against mine, not giving a shit it was covered in blood. “He touched you. He touched what is mine… ours. I don’t give a fuck who they are, that is not allowed, and now the world’s gonna know it. Touch what belongs to the Wright brothers, and you’ll end up dead… plain and simple. Now I’m going to hand you to Ghost. Be a good girl.”

One last kiss and I was settled into Ghost’s hold, who immediately took me out a back entrance where Jaxson was waiting for us in the car.

Chapter sixteen

Ghost

Fury, unlike I’d ever known boiled in my veins as I held my woman covered in some asshole’s blood who dared to touch her. Everyone knew our reputation, and that man thought he could act as he pleased because of who he was in the criminal world. Jean-Claude would be the perfect poster child to show how fucking serious we were about protecting what’s ours.

That dead bastard might be the son of one of the most respected members of the Milieu or French mob, but I felt no regret about what happened. We’d worked with his father on many occasions helping him clean up messes he couldn’t be tied to. The Venturi crime family was well known and incredibly active in the European criminal world. Our only hope is that François, his father, would understand that his son left us no choice. Magnus might be a trigger-happy psycho when it came to Harper, but he wouldn’t have made that move without giving the idiot an out.

“Shot him,” Harper mumbled.

“What’s that, angel?” I asked, using a napkin we had in the car to clean off some of the blood from her face.

“He should have shot him before he licked me,” she said more clearly this time. “That Suit thought he could drag me around like a whore. He fucking licked me,” she bit out, anger flashing in her eyes.

My gaze flicked up to Jaxson’s, who was driving, his hands turning white with how tight he was holding the steering wheel.

“What else did he say to you?” I asked. Jean-Claude had never liked us, feeling we were beneath his family. The bastard enjoyed finding ways to piss us off or undermine what we did to make himself seem more important.

“He wanted me to leave you and go with him. He thought it was disgusting that you all like to share,” she shared, raising a hand to stop my pathetic efforts to clean her up, causing me to meet her blue eyes. “I don’t agree with him. It’s not disgusting.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “I know you don’t think that, angel. Some people just can’t see more than one way to live and love. You’d think being French, he would have a more open mind, but he’s more concerned about image. His father hires us to deal with problems they can’t manage, and it infuriates him that his family needs to call in help.”