Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 126522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“Spit it out,” Marcus growls, his hurt hand falling to my waist and gripping my skin tightly, a silent warning that I’m not innocent in all of this.
“Your bitch threw a drink in my face.”
Marcus shrugs his shoulders. “So?” The guy gapes at him, unable to figure out why Marcus isn’t appalled on his behalf, but when his eyes darken and his head tilts just a fraction to the side, I know his fun is only just getting started. “Apologize.”
The guy’s face scrunches in confusion. “The fuck?”
“You heard him,” comes a familiar growl from behind him.
My gaze snaps up to find Roman standing on the opposite side of the bar, directly behind him and within arms distance to simply reach out and snap his neck.
The guy swallows hard, clearly seeing the situation that he’s in, and a twisted grin stretches over my face. I quite like this little turn of events. It’s exciting, raw, and thrilling, though it’s not something I want to get used to. If Marcus hadn’t shown up, I’d already be on the floor. Well, I’ll be dangling near the floor, seeing as though the chain around my neck wouldn’t reach that far.
The guy straightens and he looks at me. “Sorry,” he mutters darkly before attempting to move away.
“For what?”
He looks back at me, shooting daggers through his venomous stare. “Huh?”
“Sorry for what?”
Roman narrows his eyes, meeting my heated stare as Marcus’ fingers tighten on my waist. The guy looks between us before finally settling his stare back on me. “For hurting you.”
“You see,” I say with a heavy sigh as I step out of Marcus’ hold and move right into the guy. I pull Marcus’ black-bladed knife right out of the top of my boot and like lightning, I whip the blade up to his throat, just how he’d had his at mine. “The hurting me part I can deal with, but you called me a bitch, and you know what? I didn’t really like that. So tell me, what do you have to say for yourself?”
Panic flickers in his eyes as he glances to Marcus over my shoulder, wondering what the fuck is going on, but that would make two of us, because damnnnnnn, I’m making this shit up as I go.
“I … I’m sorry,” he rushes out as I begin trailing the tip of the knife over his throat and slowly down his body. “I said sorry. I take it back. I won’t call you a fucking bitch.”
My eyes widen and I lean in just a little more. “A what?”
“A BITCH. A FUCKING BITCH.”
Roman’s shallow nod in my peripheral sends a wave of venomous confidence sailing through me, and as his strong arm curls around his throat from behind, I shove the knife so deep into his gut that I feel the blood pouring out around my hand.
A pained howl comes from the man and I lean in just a little bit closer so that he can hear me over the thumping music, though I don’t dare yank the blade out just yet, instead, I give it just the slightest wiggle. “Have we learned a lesson about how to treat a lady in a bar?”
He swallows hard and violently nods his head. “Yes, please just … let me go.”
“Your wish is my command,” I tell him before yanking the knife right out and smiling sweetly. “I hope you enjoyed your stay at the DeAngelis resort and spa. Please do consider leaving a review and don’t forget to take your whore with you on your way to the door.”
And with that, Roman’s grip tightens around his throat and pulls his heavy body back over the bar, leaving a sickening trail of blood in its wake.
As I watch him go, the daunting realization of what I’ve just done begins to weigh down on me. Marcus steps into me again. His fingers trail down my arm, starting at my elbow and going all the way down until his big hand is circling around the knife in my hand.
He takes it from me, and I watch as he wipes either side of the blade onto the small sliver of skin showing on my thigh, making me wear his blood like a trophy.
Marcus doesn’t take his eyes off mine, and when the blade is as clean as it’s going to get, I watch as he skillfully presses the knife back inside my boot, keeping it safe for when I might need it next. “There might still be hope for you yet,” he tells me, his rich tone dark and sinister, filled with promises that I want nothing to do with. His fingers curl around my chin and he raises it up, holding my stare a minute longer. “You have a job to do, if you’re going to drool over Levi getting his dick sucked, make sure you’re prepared to get on your knees first.”