Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 103008 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103008 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
They may be featherlight, but they’re loud to my ears.
I control my breathing and try to calm the raging storm inside me waiting to unleash hell.
He’s almost at the couch now, coming around the right-hand side.
I run the options through my head.
One, shoot out his ankle. Two, try to neutralize him by taking him by surprise and tackling him where he is now. Both will work if he’s not armed.
But in what world would he come here unarmed?
He moves slowly and cautiously but gets closer with every second.
The third option is to sneak around the couch when he passes and come at him from behind.
Now to be able to do it without making a sound.
His foot appears in front of me.
Right. All plans are FUBAR now.
In the blink of an eye, I’m on my feet and launching myself at him.
He hadn’t seen me yet, and he stumbles back but not far enough.
I take him down, but during the fall, my side slams into Trav’s glass side table next to the couch, and I lose grip on my gun.
Motherfucker, that hurts.
Though Trav will be glad to know his furniture is fucking strong. It didn’t even crack. I can’t say the same for the ugly-ass vase that was on top of it, though.
Luckily, Webber breaks the fall, landing on shards of broken glass. He grunts in pain, but when I land on top of him, he throws a punch to my jaw.
The hit isn’t solid, not even enough to throw me off-kilter, but pain shoots down my neck.
It’s cute he thinks he can fight me.
I feel around for my gun because it’s impossible to see in this light.
Webber squirms while pinned underneath me, but he ain’t going anywhere.
That’s when a glowing blue spark lights up in his hand. Shit, Taser.
I roll off him and scramble on my hands and knees to get away, but he extends his arm, swiping at me. The telltale tick-tick-tick sound of the Taser makes me realize the odds have shifted a little.
We both get to our feet, and I’m regretting not taking the time to stash more guns around the place.
Though, as much as I want to shoot this fucker, it’ll be a lot less messy if we can take him in alive. Plus, Trav would never believe me if I said, “I had to shoot him. He was coming at me.” I can hear it now. You know about thirty different ways to take a man down with your bare hands. Try again.
“Drop the Taser and I won’t hurt you.”
Webber scoffs. “Sure, okay.”
“All right. I did try to be nice first.”
I’ve taken down bigger guys who were holding much more powerful weapons.
Instead of facing me to fight, he turns on his heel and tries to run.
Seriously, so adorable.
It’s a shame he’s a fucking psychopath who wants to hurt my boyfriend or I’d want to keep him as a pet.
I’m even tempted to give him a head start, but Harley’s safety is one thing I won’t compromise just so I can have some fun.
I reach Webber right before he hits the wet bar at the back of the living room. “Thirsty?”
Grabbing the back of his shirt, I slam him into the bar so hard bottles and glass practically explode around him.
Trav will make me pay for that, but it was well worth it.
Webber’s like a dead weight as I drop him to the floor. I stand on his shoulder blade, forcing him onto his stomach.
His hand with the Taser is still free, but no matter how he tries to get me with it, he can’t while he’s pinned beneath my foot.
I twist it in a little harder, and he calls out.
Kneeling, my knee digs into his back as I take the Taser out of his hand. He tries to hold on, but bitch, please. I wrestle it free and throw it on the couch.
He moans in pain, but I put more pressure on my knee just for good measure.
“Why are you here?”
“Fuck you,” he spits out.
“You wish.”
“I’m not talking.”
“That’s fine. We’ll just call the cops, and they can make you talk. How many years were you looking at for stalking again?”
He doesn’t reply.
Breathing heavy, I pull out some zip ties I grabbed from Trav’s supplies and secure Webber’s wrists behind his back.
Fuck, I love my job. Even if this will be a rarity when I work for Harley permanently.
Despite this fleeting moment, the sacrifice for him will be worth it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Harley
I fight a nauseated feeling the whole time Brix is gone, but after what feels like a lifetime, I lose the contents of my stomach in Trav’s bathroom.
Knowing Brix is handling it the only way he knows how, I don’t know what I’m going to walk into when he inevitably comes to get me.
If he comes to get me.