Page 56 of Room Two

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“What the fuck do you want and do you have my sister’s name on your lips? Talk fast before your ghosts find out where I hide all the bodies.”

Funny, fast talker. Sharp tongue. We’d probably be friends if it were not for the whole mafia blood shit. Too bad.

The hired help with guns peel off and leave space for their boss to enter our little circle of friendship.

Never one to take my eyes off a loaded weapon, I rock stare the asshole with a Glock aimed between my eyes.

“I take it you’re Harlon. You always welcome your sister’s lovers with such warm hospitality?”

Belle’s brother dismisses the help with a flick of his wrist. A familiar fire ignites in the darkness of the other man’s eyes at the mention of his sister. Why the fuck do all big brothers think their sisters are saints? Men are fucking clueless sometimes.

I see the same flash of ire in Belle’s eyes when she’s aroused or pissed off.

Without the gun in my face, I am free to slide my hard glare to him, the other man takes the weight of my energy. Taking him on will hurt like a motherfucker. The hard set of his jaw and the calluses I see on his fingers all point to this man building his empire with his own hands. Which means he can take and give in equal portions.

Two more men step off the elevator and now I don’t feel so bad about outnumbering the bad guys.

“My partners,” Harlon offers offhand.

If tonight turns to blows it might be a fair fight, but I sure the fuck won’t be paying their dry-cleaning bills when we soak their clothes in their own blood.

Dark brows flatline. “So you came here to throw in my face that you three are doing my sister? Is this blackmail? Are you wanting money, a favor, or both?” The suit coats start to come off.

“Keep your fucking filthy blood money. We want nothing but your sister.”

The elevator dings again.

“For fucks sake, how many of you are there?”

Wild eyes swing to mine and my stomach drops out. Fuck she’s a beautiful hell’s angel raging mad and ready to commit murder.

“Now you’ve done it,” I hear her brother mutter.

Belle rages forward, her teeth clenched and chest heaving. Water drips from every part of her body. I see she found my secret stash of Baby Yoda T-shirts. This one clings to every inch of her upper body with the help of rainwater.

A sharp-tipped finger jabs into my chest.

“I’d like to do my own talking, thank you!”

“You’re not looking good.”

“Of course I don’t! I just drove thirty miles in a downpour thinking the worst while hoping I didn’t kill us both by driving off the side of the road. Of course I’m not well.”

All six of us stand silently.

“Twoof you?” I ask, pronouncing my words slowly.

Nineteen

Belle

Ifreeze with my hand halfway to poking Aziel in the chest again. Shit. This day started out miserable and now it’s going to end that way.

The stab of pain between my eyes returns. “That is not how I wanted that news to come out.”

“Kill us both? What is that supposed to mean?”

I drop my hand to my flat stomach. In the months to come, it will grow with their child. Our child. “Both,” I say again a little slower. I look to my men. “I’m pregnant.”


Tags: Penelope Wylde Erotic