I didn't even think of the god damn gun nestled in the small of my back. I didn't take heed to the half dozen Hailstorm men and women coming down the stairs behind me. Because, quite fuckin' frankly, this fight was between me and the mother fucker who dared put his hands on what was mine.
“This is gonna' be fun,” I growled as Damian tried to wrestle his cock back into his pants and got to his feet.
I got one second to notice that Lo had closed her eyes with an odd, sweet smile on her face before I charged at Damian. Malcolm and the rest of them would get her up and out of there. They would start to do something about the wounds on her back. They would do a much better job at that than I could. And I, well, I was going to do the better job at making Damian Crane pay for ever even thinking about putting his hands on her.
I took him down with a running crouch to his center, his yell suggesting Lo had already gotten a good hit or kick to his ribs. I felt a swell of pride at that- my girl was a fighter, as I pounded my fist into the bastard's face, enjoying the spurt of blood out of his nose.
Behind me, I could hear Malcolm giving out orders and the hair-raising sound of Lo's shriek as they, presumably, moved her.
Damian bucked and I was flying to my side, landing with a grunt.
Something clattered to the ground next to me and Malcolm's voice called. “We need to get her back to Hailstorm. She's losing a lot of blood.”
But I wasn't paying much attention because I finally realized what had flown down next to be: the asshole's belt. I felt a sick smile pull at my lips as I grabbed for it and got my feet, turning back to see Damian closing in on me.
Oh, yeah. Talk about justice.
I was gonna see how much he liked getting a strap taken to him.
“Shoulda' kept your hands off what belongs to me,” I said, swinging back, then snapping the belt forward, the blow landing in the center of his chest, giving me a grunt.
“She's mine.” And, well, that was just the wrong damn thing to say.
I cocked my arm back again, then swung forward, this time aiming a helluva lot higher. His whole body jerked back as the belt smacked across the side of his face. His hand went instinctively up to cover the raising welt and I took that opportunity to nail the back of his hand too- his guttural howl sending off a shock of pleasure through my system.
I wasn't that guy. I didn't have that dark of a soul. I didn't get off on pain. But, hell, I was half hard listening to this fuck getting what was coming to him. For Lo. For the years of damage he had caused her. For the shields she felt she had to wear around herself because of him. For the fear such a strong, formidable woman like Lo was forced to live through every day of her life.
His face half swollen, Damian lunged, taking us both down, making me land beneath his weight with a hiss on the hard floor. Right hand lamed by the belt strike, he raised his left and got a half-force punch to the side of my face before I knifed up, throwing him down and taking my feet.
I cocked back the belt and swung one last time. My aim was off by the barest of inches and the lash took him across the eye, making a cry that was only half-human escape him as a swirling feeling started in my stomach.
Enough. That was fucking enough.
I flew across the floor as he cradled his face and grabbed the chain that had been around Lo's ankle and dragging the heavy as all fuck thing across the floor, clamping it around Damian's ankle before he could even stop howling enough to try to stop me.
“Let's see how much you like being held against your will, you sick fuck,” I said, taking off toward the stairs, my heart pounding hard in my chest. Anger drained, all I felt was the kind of worry that settled in your belly and felt like it hollowed you out inside.
“He dead?” the only leftover Hailstorm guy asked as I got to the top landing, left there, I imagined, in case Damian got away from me because this guy was a mammoth of a man... he looked like he'd give Wolf a run for his money.
“No. But I bet he wishes he was. Can you lock this thing back up?” I asked, gesturing toward the door as Damian's swears of vengeance drifted up the stairs.
“Yeah,” he said, pulling something out of his pocket. “Changing the code though,” he said, pressing away as he kicked the door closed. “So you're keeping him down there?” he asked, turning back to me, pinning me with his freakishly blue eyes.
“Figured Lo might want a shot at him once she's up and moving again,” I shrugged, knowing she would. Once the pain and embarrassment faded, she would be spittin' mad. And she would want him to pay for ever making her feel weak again. There was no way I was going to deny her that. “She okay?” I asked, not bothering to hide the rawness in my voice.
“She's gonna be hurting for a while. Her back was completely cut open. Has some marks on her face and her ribs looked like they got worked over again. But she'll be alright. They know what they're doing.”
With all the shit they got themselves into, all the damage that must have been done to their crew, I imagined that was true.
“I need to see her.”
The guy nodded, jerking his head toward the front of the store. “Let's go.”
With that, he took off in his Jeep and I took off on my bike, both of us pushing twenty over the speed limit until we finally pulled up to the gates which swung open.