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The thud of bass, music from the club ahead, reached my ears. It was the early hours of the morning, but still a queue for the place snaked out of the door and around the corner. Young women in towering heels and skirts that barely covered their pussies stood in small groups, giggling together, most already having had a skinful. Drunk girls didn’t do it for me. I wanted a woman who’d participate in bed, not one who’d lie back, half asleep, while I ate her out. Maybe that would be some bloke’s kink, but it wasn’t mine. I wanted a woman to let me know exactly how much she loved my tongue inside her.

To my left, a cry of fright came from down an alley.

Feminine. Scared.

I should ignore it. I’d already dealt with enough trouble tonight. But something about the tone drew me in.

I took my knife from my pocket and flicked it open. Maybe a gun would be better, but even in London, gunshots caught people’s attention, and the last thing I wanted was to attract the attention of the police. I had a couple of officers who were on my books, but there was never any guarantee that they could do what was needed to get the police off my back.

The cry came again, followed by the gruff tones of a man, and I stopped walking.

Fuck.

Almost every inch of me told me not to get involved, but that little part of me that wished I’d stayed to finish off Ronald also made me want to continue the fight. Strength burned through my muscles, and I wanted to put it to good use. If someone wanted to give me a reason, who was I to say no?

I followed the sounds down an alleyway beside the club. It was dark, the alley swathed in black, but I made out shapes and movement at the end. Figures stood between the large industrial bins that the staff from the club probably emptied the tons’ worth of empty glass bottles into at the end of the night.

I was pleased I’d retrieved my flick knife from the back of Ronald’s hand. It was still covered in his blood, but I wasn’t worried about that.

The voices became more distinct now I was closer.

“—open those pretty legs for me, sweetheart.”

A second voice. “You know you want to. Little whore. She’s gagging for it.”

There were definitely two of them, but I wasn’t worried about that either.

The girl’s tone was filled with fear, her voice trembling. “No, please. Just leave me alone.”

“I bet her pussy is wet.”

The tear of material ripping, followed by a shriek of horror from the girl.

“Fuck, look at those tits,” one of the men growled.

If I was going to step in, I needed to do it now.

I moved quickly and quietly, flicking open the blade. Both men were fully focused on their prey and didn’t notice me coming.

I grabbed the back of the t-shirt of the man closest to me and yanked him away, swinging him hard enough so he stumbled and slammed against the wall opposite. Surprise was my advantage when it came to there being two against one, but so was the fact that I wouldn’t hesitate in killing these sons of bitches, where they’d probably run a mile from an actual fight and preferred to pick on defenceless women instead.

The other man spun towards me. “What the fuck?”

I didn’t falter. I elbowed him in the face so his head snapped back, and, before he could regain his composure, I got behind him and caught him by the throat, wrapping my forearm around his neck. The first man had scrambled to his feet and was about to launch himself at me. A well-positioned knife point at his mate’s eye put an end to that.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” I warned.

“Don’t!” man number two squeaked.

The bravado I’d heard when they’d been taunting the woman had evaporated.

“Unless you want to see your friend’s eyeball speared on the end of my knife, I suggest you both apologise to this woman and get the fuck out of here.”

I hadn’t paid any attention to the victim yet. All my focus had needed to be on the men so they didn’t get one over on me. I didn’t think she’d moved, though. She probably should have taken the moment and run, but perhaps she was worried they might chase her.

Man number one didn’t even give me an argument. He left his friend in the dust and ran for the alleyway entrance—the same way I’d come only moments earlier.

I tightened my grip around the second man’s throat, closing off his airway a fraction. “I suggest you do the same as your mate. I wouldn’t want my knife to slip.”


Tags: Marissa Farrar Romance