Sinner's Revenge(78)

“And what team is that, Diem? Because right now it feels like you’re on one side and I’m on the other.” I’m over the whole keeping our relationship a secret shit. I don’t give a damn who knows.

“These men are here for me. They’re here to protect me,” she argues, but her case is weak.

I offer her a smirk and shake my head. Her eyebrows rise in amusement. “You don’t agree?”

“You don’t need them.”

“Why, because I have you?” She laughs, and it stings. Only because I’ve already answered this question once, and she still doesn’t believe it.

“Yeah, babe, ’cause you got me. But even if you didn’t, you can handle yourself. I always knew that, and I should have said it sooner.”

“But you didn’t,” she cuts in. Her words are angry and laced with a hate I didn’t know she had inside her. She takes a deep breath, crossing her arms over her chest. “You know how I love a challenge, so prove it to me. Prove that all I need is you.” That creepy, evil smile crosses her lips and I narrow my eyes on her.

“How?”

She waves her hand across the room at the six men standing in a line with their arms clasped in front of them. “You think you’re a wolf? Act like one.”

I smile at her choice of words. I don’t doubt myself in the least. I’ve always been good at fighting, but now, she’s just given me something to fight for. “You want me to take on all of them?” I ask, flashing her the grin she once called irresistible.

“Well, there are only six. Surely a man like you can handle it. Don’t worry. I’ll stop them before they kill you.” Damn, she really is pissed.

I take off my cut as my brothers move back and the six men move forward. I hand it to Chaps who just shakes his head at me. I know what he’s thinking. Dumb-ass.

“You must really like to see me fight. What will this be? The third time?” I ask, knowing she gets off on this shit. Chances are I was fixing to get my ass kicked. But it wouldn’t be the first time.

“I think so . . . Wait,” she says, putting her finger on her chin. “Is this where I say this is going to hurt me worse than it hurts you?”

“Only if it makes you feel better, baby.”

Her eyes narrow, the humor lost from her face. She’s seething with rage. And she’s going to enjoy the shit out of this. With a jerk of her chin, she gives the command. “Take him.”

Naturally, they send the biggest guy first—Clark. He’s the only one who’s a real threat. The others are overweight, middle-aged men who are probably named Tony or Joe and are someone’s uncle’s cousin’s brother’s kid. Wasting no time, I throat punch Clark, and while he’s distracted with the feeling of his throat closing up, I work on his temple until he falls like dead weight to the ground.

The next one comes at me, and it only takes two licks for me to take him down. After that, they keep coming. One by one I drop them. The only problem is that once they’re down, they don’t stay that way. Soon, I’m fighting off two at a time. Then three. Finally, they’re kicking my ass. Diem is watching, and when I swing my gaze at her, I can tell that she’s struggling with watching me bleed. I guess it does hurt her worse than it does me. Right now, I can’t feel a fucking thing.

Finding what little energy I have left, I break free from their hold and reach for my gun that is hidden beneath my shirt. Knowing if I fire they’ll kill me, I grab the man closest to me and use him as a shield while I keep my gun trained on his head. “I believe I’ve had enough,” I announce breathlessly. I’m not ashamed of admitting it. I just took on six men for longer than any of them could have lasted one-on-one with me.

Guns are drawn, everyone is in a standoff, and Diem looks happier than a pig in shit. Clapping her hands, she walks toward me. “I’m impressed. I figured you would just shoot them.”

I smirk. “Nah, I like to get a little sweaty. Keeps me in shape.”

“Everyone, put your guns down. Like I said, we’re all on the same team. Even you, Shady.”

I give her a bloody smile that widens when she frowns at the sight of the blood running down my chin. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?” I ask, letting the man go and sticking my gun back in my pants.

Straightening her back, she purses her lips—that face of stone back in place. “That means you’ll live long enough to try again tomorrow.”

Bitch.





25


THE NEXT MORNING, Rookie walks in the living room wearing basketball shorts, flip-flops, a muscle shirt, and headphones. I’ve known him for years and this is the first time I’ve ever seen him not wearing jeans and boots.