“Well, he won’t do that again.” I laugh, and Diesel smirks around his cigarette. “Finish up, we’re going to pick up Rob’s daughter.”
His eyes light up even more. Poor girl, when he gets his hands on her, she’ll be toast. “Sure, one sec.” He turns back to the guy and slaps him around the face to silence him. “Sorry, love, our time is up. I wish I could stay, but I have a date, you understand?”
He grabs the cloth next to him, the smell of petrol burning my nose as he sets it alight. Laughing, Diesel smashes it into the guy’s mouth, breaking his teeth and covering his mouth with his hand, forcing him to keep it there. “Brother…” I warn, not wanting to interrupt, since that tends to lead to us fighting. We have a deal. When people are brought to him, he can do whatever he wants, but we need to get moving.
“Fine,” he snaps and, grabbing the gun from the small of his back, shoots the man straight in the head before turning to me. He starts my way as I shake my head.
“Might wanna clean up, we don’t want to scare her to death…just yet.” I smirk.
He laughs, grabbing a rag and wiping away the blood on his face before puffing on his fag. “Let’s go,” he murmurs with a sigh, draping an arm around my shoulders which I shake off. “Hear anything about the girl?”
“Only that Kenzo, and I quote, jacked off four times last night since seeing a picture of her.”
Diesel whistles, and I nod. To get Kenzo in such a tizzy, she must be something to look at. Ryder is the ladies’ man, while Kenzo prefers a good bet or a dare over a pussy any day. “I wonder if they’ll let me have her first…”
“Doubt it, you’d kill her, so you’ll probably be last,” I mutter, as we hit the elevator and ride it up to where Ryder and Garett are waiting.
“Fuck, fine.” He perks up then as he drops his fag to the floor. I stamp it out so it doesn’t set the place ablaze. “I bet I can still make her scream.”
“I don’t doubt it, especially if you play with her like you do your toys,” I offer as the door opens, emitting us to the parking garage.
Kenzo and Ryder are there, and when they spot me with D, they smirk. “D, you drive with Garrett, we need room for her.”
D rubs his hands together and Ryder narrows his eyes. “No crazy stunts, I don’t want to pull you two from a fucking wreck off the bridge again because you thought you could jump it.”
D rolls his eyes, even as I laugh. “I’ll drive.”
“Like fucking hell you will!” D screams, before socking me right in the gut.
Wheezing, I manage to thrust out a fist, hitting him straight in the side. He slams into the wall, making us both laugh.
“Gentlemen, come, there is a lady waiting for us.” Ryder smiles, the evil one. He has something up his sleeve, that’s for sure.
The girl is safe from me. Not that I won’t kill her, ’cause I will. I hate to do women like that, but sometimes I have to. Just because they have a pussy doesn’t mean they won’t try to kill you. But she won’t have to worry about me touching her, taking her. That ship sailed years ago, even the thought of a woman touching me makes me angry.
Makes me want to hit something.
It’s the others she should be worried about, because from the look in Ryder’s eyes…he wants her too. And badly. Whatever Ryder wants, he gets. That’s why we’re as rich and as feared as we are now. Clearly Kenzo wants her, and Diesel? Well, he’s due a new plaything.
The girl would be lucky to survive through the first night.
Chapter Six
ROXY
I stare at the four men in my doorway. They’re not my normal customers. One is wearing a suit that’s tailored perfectly to fit him and is probably worth more than the whole bar. The other three look like mean sons of a bitches. I’m pretty sure the one in the back is an actual giant, as he ducks his head to get through the door.
And they’re all packing, I catch glimpses of the guns. So do my customers.
The whole place clears, chairs scraping and falling to the floor in their rush to escape the newcomers. Cook pokes his head out, and I sigh. So this is them, the people hunting me. “Cook, go home,” I order, knowing I won’t be opening tonight.
“Smart.” The one in the suit nods. His way too slick black hair is pushed back, styled flawlessly, long on top and short on the sides, so I have the insane urge to mess it up. But his eyes? They are black, cold, and calculating. They scan the room and me, noting everything. I bet if I asked, he could relay every single detail.
His cheekbones are high and sharp, his jaw chiselled with stubble covering it, only framing his lush, plump lips. He’s tall, around six foot three, and his suit hugs his thick thighs and arms in the most tempting way. He’s just too perfect to look at, like a model.
“Is this her?” One of them grins, strolling forward. His long blond hair is pushed behind pierced ears. Tattoos peek out of the top of his white shirt, which is partially tucked into ripped, faded jeans and black boots. His arms are huge and dotted with tattoos here and there, his skin golden and glistening, but he seems like the type to be covered in grease and dirt. His eyes are a bright blue and locked on me, but there’s something not quite right about them.
His face is more angular than the first guy’s, but no less striking, and he prowls around as he stares at me like a hungry panther.
“It is,” another one confirms. This guy’s facial structure is similar to the first one, but no stubble. He’s clean shaven with a slightly squarer jaw. His hair is longer on top and shaved on the sides, shoved back carelessly. He’s taller than the first and more stacked, not as put together, but hot as hell.
The last one doesn’t speak, just stares at me from dark eyes. I spot his long eyelashes from here, the type girls would be envious of, but that’s the only girly thing about him. He’s massive, his arms are thicker than my whole body, and his white shirt clings to his bulging biceps and veiny forearms, indenting at his pecs and chiselled abs.
His jeans are tight, like he can’t find the right size, and his hair is brown with blond streaks, styled casually to the side. Every single inch of him is covered in tattoos, and a black lip ring glistens in the light.
I look back over them as the blond-haired guy flicks open the top of a lighter again and again as he stares at me. “Who are you?” I snap, refusing to be intimidated.
“Won’t you take a seat?” the first one offers, and I laugh.
“Why don’t you fuck off? Now tell me why the hell you’re in my bar or get the fuck out,” I snarl.
The blond one chuckles. “Ooh, feisty, she’s so little though. Too easy to break.” He pouts, sighing like I’ve put him out.