Grind (Wrong Side of the Tracks #4) Read Online K.A. Merikan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: Wrong Side of the Tracks Series by K.A. Merikan
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Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
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Frank couldn’t think straight anymore. The mere idea of this monster taking Ezra anywhere, let alone hurting him, of his cold eyes being the last thing Ezra saw before his life was extinguished, made Frank’s mind cloud with so much fury, he went straight for Paul’s throat.

Cold eyes widened, gaining focus a bit too late. For a horrible moment before Frank’s hands found Paul’s throat, the smell of gunpowder seemed almost inevitable, but Paul hesitated, and as Frank slammed his forehead against the reptile skull, the pistol clattered to the floor.

With his now free hands, Paul attempted to remove Frank’s fingers from his throat, but when he tried to shove them aside, Frank put all his weight on that damn neck. So maybe he’d end up tried for murder, but if they put him away, at least he’d rot behind bars knowing that Ezra was safe and free.

“He’s mine,” Frank gritted through his teeth, meeting Paul’s eyes without ever blinking. A surge of adrenaline hit him along with the electrifying power of making a man lose his breath.

Paul couldn't speak, but he understood. His red and purple face told Frank so.

Frank thought he was winning this deadly clash when Paul stopped wrestling his hands, but then the steel grip was on his balls, and when Paul put his force into the painful squeeze, dark spots blurred Frank’s vision.

“Motherfucker!” Frank yelped and stumbled back, fighting the nausea taking over his body. He didn’t have the time to focus on pain, but when he raised his head, ready for a counterattack, a plastic tray hit him square in the face, filling his vision with bright dots. Blood tasted bitter on his tongue as his nose and lips grew numb, but when Paul swung the tray his way again, Frank dove under it. The floor passed under them on fast forward, and just as the edge of the tray smashed into Frank’s back, Paul collided with the wall so hard the television set attached above gave a warning creak.

But the fucker was like a viper in attack mode now, and while older and smaller, Paul had experience in martial arts. Frank depended on his size and strength, so he squeezed Paul, trying to choke the breath out of his lungs, but Paul lashed out and stuck his fingers into a sensitive spot under Frank’s ribs.

Frank groaned and shoved at Paul’s hand, but that gave him enough wiggle room to slip out of Frank’s grasp like an eel. Frank reached for him right away, but only managed to rip the jacket off the bastard as he rolled to the bed, to Ezra’s pained squeal.

Seeing Ezra drop to the floor like a sack of potatoes made Frank's protective instincts ring in alarm, but this way he was out of Paul’s reach at least, so Frank hauled himself at the beast scrambling off the mattress with a low huff. If he could get both his hands on the bastard's head and trap his body against something, it would just take a bit of strength to break his neck.

What then?

He didn’t know, but Ezra would be safe.

Zeroing in on the spots he needed to target, Frank didn’t notice Paul snapping his hand as if it were a scorpion’s tail before pain seared his thigh.

Paul stuck a syringe in his leg.

“You cunt!” Frank growled, slipping over the floor as he ripped the thing out.

His hand passed over the small side table with Ezra’s food, and he grabbed a small lemon-shaped bottle of the tart juice Ezra put in his salads.

Frank didn’t think. The moment Paul darted toward him, he turned the bottle at the fucker and squirted lemon juice into his eyes.

A dull grunt escaped Paul’s lips as he covered his face, but the adrenaline-fueled moment came to a rapid halt at the loud knock on the door.

Reality was coming for them, and Frank was too stunned to react before the sound was joined by a female voice.

“Is everything all right? I’m coming in.”

He spun around as the door opened, and a tiny woman entered in pink scrubs. She adjusted her thick glasses and stared at them. “Where is the patient?”

“Bathroom,” Frank and Paul said in unison.

“And… what is going on here?” She lowered her glasses and frowned at the food and dishes scattered all over the floor.

“I… slipped,” Paul muttered, still rubbing his eyes.

Frank did everything in his power to avoid acknowledging Ezra who lay on the floor on the other side of the bed, out of the nurse’s sight. But in the corner of his eye, Frank did see him crawl under the bed.

“You can ask the janitor for a mop and bucket,” she said sternly and slammed the door behind her, as if to make sure they understood she wouldn’t be dealing with the mess.

Frank sucked in a lungful of lemon-scented air and faced Paul again just in time to hear Ezra speak.


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