Remy(53)

“Get them to open up,” I growl.

One of them rubs my chest while the other knocks. “Willie! Hey, Willie, it’s Trish,” she calls out.

The door opens and I immediately swing out my arm, my fist connecting with Willie’s face. He falls splat on the floor. Two other assholes sit on a flowery sofa watching TV, and they leap to their feet.

I go straight for the nearest one and grab him by the shirt. “Hello, motherfucker,” I tell him as I swing my fist. Bones crack. Blood sputters as I toss him down and grab the next, smashing my knuckles so his nose cracks just as hard. When I let him drop to his knees, I see him—Scorpion—at the door to a bedroom, his eyes slightly wide and as yellow as dog piss.

Clamping my jaw, I angrily stalk over as he lifts his palms up to ward me off. “Now, now, Riptide, you don’t want to do this here.”

“Yes, I do.” I grab his shirt and pound my fist three consecutive times into his face.

He tries to hit me back but I’m pounding him too fast. I shove him down to the ground and spot a girl there, crying, watching us from a chair by the bed. She looks nothing like Brooke. Her stare is empty, her hair is atrocious, and then I see a pencil at the nightstand as Scorpion tries standing. I grab it, and before he can stand, I ram it into the black tattoo he made Brooke kiss, tearing it downward. Blood spurts, and he releases a low, bloodcurdling scream as he tries to pull the pencil out.

As he winces and yanks it off, bloodied and broken, I pull him up by the T-shirt and force him to look at me.

“STAY. AWAY. FROM MY GIRL,” I spit into his face. “You MOTHERFUCKER. Stay away from my property. I’ll KILL you next time.”

I swing out, and the girl cries, “No!” and when I turn, his fist slams into my face.

I stumble back, then scowl, roar, and lunge at him. As we swing hard and fast, the only sounds in the room are the weeping of that girl and our hard, fast punches.

The thing about Scorpion is he’s not me. He’s not as fast, he’s not as strong—he will never win, unless he provokes the shit out of me and I fuck up like I did with my boxing career.

Like I’m doing now.

And I don’t care. Right now nothing will feel as good as breaking every one of his bones. Roaring, I deliver a killer right hook that drops him to his knees, and he raises his arms to stop me.

“Halt! I say, halt, Riptide!” My swing halfway there, I halt and glower down at him as he signals at her. “Do you want her?”

Blood dripping down my eyebrow, I wipe it off and look at her, as Scorpion grits out, “I’ll give her to you. I’ll let you take her if you let me win tomorrow.”

“I kill you now,” I growl, hauling him up by the shirt and forcing him to his feet with an angry shake of my fist. “And I take her.”

He shakes his head and pulls his shirt free. “Kill me and my three boys will tear her apart while you do.”

The soft weeping continues from the corner, and she’s whispering, “Please stop, stop.”

I scan the minions approaching her. I can take them all, but I don’t fucking want to do it in front of her. Clamping my teeth, I shove Scorpion away and approach her. I’m no fucking murderer even if the desire to kill is swimming in my veins, making me tremble. “You’re Brooke’s sister?”

She nods.

I take her by the arm and lift her to her feet. “You come with me.”

“Not so fast, Riptide,” Scorpion calls. “You want her, then one of your guys and mine stay with her in lockdown until you deliver the championship tomorrow.”

My laugh is dripping in sarcasm. “Ahh, asshole, when are you going to realize? I can give the championship away tomorrow, that won’t mean I won’t take it back. And when I do, everyone’s going to watch me break you.” I grab my phone and call Pete.

“Where the fuck are you—” he starts as soon as he answers.

“Get your ass over here. I need you to do something for me.” I tell him where I’m at and hang up.

Five minutes later, when Pete arrives, he sees my eyebrow is bleeding into my eye, that my fists are cracked and my knuckles bruised. He stares at Scorpion, his mouth hanging open. “Rem, what have you done,” he gasps.

“No one’s talking,” I stress out to placate him, and when he keeps gaping, I snap my fingers before his eyes. “Hey, hey, man, focus! You’re to secure Brooke’s sister until I tell you and they release her to me. Do you hear me?”

He blinks. “Dude, you need stitches.”

“I’ll get some fucking stitches,” I growl. “Just take her away from that asshole.”