“Just hold this bag while I text Spike.” He handed over the Twizzlers as he grabbed out his phone and sent off a text. “There, that will keep him off our backs. Now, my princess, shall we go eat our weight in junk food?”
“Are you sure you’re a doctor?”
“That’s what it says on my diploma back home.”
Something black moved up behind him and before she even had time to warn him there was a sickening crunching noise. Then Hack slowly fell to the ground, his phone smashing to the floor. She screamed and tried to reach for him. Panic flooded her. She wasn’t thinking properly or she might have run. Maybe. But she didn’t run, and someone grabbed her, shoving her back. She landed on the ground and agony engulfed her side.
Her head slammed against the floor, dazing her. She heard a grunting noise. Someone muttering something.
“God damn bitch. Fucking stupid cunt. All your fucking fault.”
Someone kicked her side and she screamed. Hands landed around her neck, constricting her air. She tried to fight with her good hand, she used her nails to scratch at her attacker, beat at him with her fist. He screeched but it just made him angrier. Finally, the lack of air started to slow her movements. Darkness encroached.
Then nothing.
41
Spike’s knuckles were broken and bruised. His body had taken a few hits. But the enemy was in a far worse state. Falcon, Jackal, Regan, Mitchell and Corey likely thought they’d have the advantage against him, Steele and Grady.
They were mistaken.
The five of them lay on the ground, broken and bleeding. But not dead.
It wasn’t enough.
“You need to go now,” Steele told him as he slipped on his jacket. The big man looked invigorated. As though he’d just gone for a run. He and Grady hadn’t taken many hits. Steele was an ex-cage fighter. He wasn’t someone to underestimate. And despite his genteel appearance, Grady wasn’t either.
“I’ll stay.” Corey shot his woman.
“You don’t need to be here for this part,” Steele told him, his pale blue eyes intense.
“It’s my fight too.”
“Yeah. And you fought your part,” Steele countered. “You don’t need to do this part. Leave it to us. Our souls are already fully black.”
He shook his head.
“Listen to him, Quillon,” Grady said, using his real name. “You should go home to that gorgeous girl of yours and leave this to us.”
“The puppies,” he muttered.
“What?” Steele and Grady exchanged a look.
“The other puppies like Mr. Fluffy. Luther was transporting puppies and lost one. But where are the other ones? I need to get those puppies. Millie will never forgive me if I don’t take care of them.”
“I’ve got guys circling in on their headquarters just out of the city. I can get someone to grab the puppies and bring them to you,” Steele told him.
“I’ll go myself and get them before I go home. You don’t know how much Millie loves animals.”
“Go,” Steele said. “We’ll take care of the trash here.”
“It will be our pleasure.” Grady smiled. It wasn’t a pretty smile.
Spike walked out of the warehouse, rolling his shoulders. He grabbed out his phone to call Hack and saw he’d already received a text from him over an hour ago.
I’m here. We’re fine. Have fun!
Idiot.