“See you boys later,” I said as I stepped out of the car.
The guys followed me, moving more quietly. They’d hang back by the vans out of sight until they had all the excuse they needed to take their target down several pegs. I took brisk steps, my stilettos rapping away on the concrete.
The faint notes of hip-hop music drifted toward me. The smells of cheap weed and cheaper beer saturated the air.
As I came around the vans, I found a loose circle with half a dozen guys in ripped jeans lounging in plastic chairs. A woman in a short dress was sitting on one man’s lap, batting her eyelashes.
“Which one of you is Trent?” I demanded, jutting my hip out for good measure. If I was going to play a role, I’d damn well sell it.
I’d already guessed the leader of these goons was the dude with the goatee and the beer gut whose chair was just a little larger than the others. He looked me up and down with an open leer while a couple of the other guys let out whistles of approval. “That’d be me. What are you looking for, honey?”
As I sauntered over, I added a little sway to my stride. I planted myself right in front of him. His eyes lingered on all those gaps in the dress, his tongue slicking over his chapped lips with a lecherous grin. Ugh.
“I’m looking for money, Trent,” I said, giving him a sickly-sweet smile. “You owe the Nobles quite a lot, and you haven’t been paying up.”
A rush of murmurs and a little laughter spread through the crowd. Trent scoffed at me. “And they sentyouto collect it?”
“Damn right, they did. Now are you going to hand it over or what?” I made a grabby gesture with my hand.
“Forget it.” Trent leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on a crate. “I don’t owe the Nobles shit. I’m my own man now.”
I cocked my head. “I don’t give a crap about your delusions of grandeur. I just want the money you owe. Now stop acting like a pussy and pay up.”
That riled him up good. His eyes flashed, and the others fell silent. He kicked aside the crate and sprang to his feet. “Talk to me like that again, bitch, and you’ll be the one having delusions.”
I wondered if he had any idea what that even meant, because that threat hadn’t made a whole lot of sense. I sighed. “Well, if you want to do this the hard way, that can be arranged. But are you sure you want me embarrassing you in front of your dickhead friends?”
One of the guys let out a grunt of protest. Trent held up his hand, openly seething. “What exactly do you thinkyou’regoing to do, you trumped-up whore?”
I let another smile, much sharper, cross my lips. “Let’s not get to that. Imagine what your master will say if he hears that one of his lapdogs has forgotten who’s in charge? If that ego inflates any more, your head might explode.”
“I’m not a lapdog,” Trent roared. He reached into his jeans, and before I could blink, he was pointing a gun at me. “You’re going to die, bitch.”
Did he think he was the first man to ever aim a pistol at me? I eyed it calmly, my pulse only stuttering momentarily.
I could handle this. I’d faced so much worse than he could imagine.
Trent jabbed the gun at me. “What do you have to say about me now, huh?”
I fluttered my eyelashes at him. “Now you’re a dog with a gun.”
Wylder was probably intending to rush in here the second the asshole released the safety. But I had other ideas. He wanted to see what I was made of? I could kick plenty of ass all on my own.
Before Trent could react to my insult, I snatched his wrist and twisted so swiftly the gun tumbled from his fingers. As the men around him leapt to their feet, I finished him off by yanking him toward me—right into my knee, which happened to be ramming straight at his crotch.
He started to crumple, and I bashed my elbow into his nose for good measure. The bone crunched with a spurt of blood.
Oh dear, I’d stained this pretty dress. What a shame.
When I shoved him away, Trent fell to his knees with a groan. One of his men charged at me, but before I could give him a taste of the medicine I could deliver, a huge form barreled into him.
Kaige toppled the guy with a swift body-check. “Thought you might need some help,” he tossed over his shoulder to me as he spun to face another incoming attacker.
Around me, a larger fight had broken out. Rowan tackled a man to the floor while Wylder took on two at once. I watched as his well-built body shifted from side to side between them. He knocked one to the ground, and when the other came for his shoulder, he turned and grabbed him by the neck. With one quick heave, he slammed the other guy into the hood of one of the vans.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he snarled.
My pussy clenched as I watched him. There was something undeniably hot about Wylder dominating his enemies. Not that I’d ever admit that to him.