Page 14 of Freed By Wrath

I reach inside the trunk and offer her a hand. She takes it.

For one glorious, breathtaking fraction of a second, I think she’s accepted the help, only for her knee to rocket upward with the speed and conviction of a guided missile and pain explodes through my entire bloodline.

“…Son of—” The rest dies somewhere between my lungs and my rapidly departing soul.

Fuck.me.

She didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t flinch.

I fold in half so violently I’m surprised I don’t hear my own spine apologize.

The concrete floor rushes up to greet me.

And although I’m seeing white spots while trying to control my breath and avoid the pain, I see her between them, and she doesn’t even look guilty.

Behind me, every argument comes to an abrupt stop.

“…Did she just kick him in the balls?” Isaac asks.

“Next time I’ll aim higher,” she snaps, chin lifting defiantly.

A beat.

“Good job, trouble,” Slash says with a grin.

Before any of us can stop her, she takes off running.

Wrong move, sweetheart.

Isaac catches her in seconds, and I swear I can almost see him smiling behind his mask. Bastard loves the chase.

She barely makes it five feet before he’s behind her, catching her around the waist as she thrashes wildly, elbowing, kicking, and twisting with every ounce of strength she has.

“LET ME GO, YOU MONSTERS!” Her scream echoes through the parking garage.

“Later. Now you come with me.”

“Uh. Kinky.” Slash adds, and my other best friend looks at him like he might kill him.

Well, after this, he actually might.

Isaac secures her wrists behind her back with practiced ease and starts walking toward the elevator as if carrying off furious women is just another Tuesday.

“You two,” he calls over his shoulder without breaking stride. “Stay down here.”

Before the elevator doors slide open, Isaac yanks his T-shirt over her head.

Right. That way she can’t see the floor number, the hallway, or our apartment.

Smart.

We still have to discuss how we are going to play this, but until then, I’m happy that Isaac is always thinking two steps ahead.

They say cops make the best criminals. For the first time, I’m seeing why.

The elevator doors close and I straighten slowly, salvaging what little dignity survived the assault on my balls.