Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 31081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
“Quinn,” I call out over the crowd, but she’s too far ahead to hear me.
Greg storms her way, hands fisted in apparent rage. My girl’s not stopping. She breaks into a run down the hallway, heading for the back exit.
What the hell is going on?
I don’t like the way he takes off after her. It’s not in a concerned, friendly way. More like a predator chasing its prey. This isn’t a fucking game like the ones we play. He’s thirsty for blood. I can feel it in my veins. With a growl, I shove people out of the way as I run after them.
The back door opens, and she’s gone.
It closes for two seconds, then he’s out there after her.
Fuck. This.
I’m seconds behind them as I push out into the warm night air.
My blood freezes, and I nearly stumble at what I see, but seconds are too precious to lose—she’s too precious. I charge for the fucker, who has a motherfucking gun held to my girl’s head.
I don’t think.
I act.
Fast.
“He was a cop.” Her words echo through my head, making my stomach twist.
My body connects with his as I tackle him to the side. We hit the concrete hard. The gun scrapes across the ground, just out of reach. Greg is fit being a cop, but I’m a man protecting his love. I’m untouchable.
I pin him down, straddling him, and lay punch after punch into his face. Blood splatters as he continues struggling. I’m blinded by rage, unable to even check on Quinn. I want to kill this man.
Someone grabs me from behind and yanks.
“What the hell?” Blaine growls in my ear, dragging me back.
Greg rolls over, grabs his gun, and staggers to his feet, pointing it at me.
“Whoa,” Blaine barks. “Sanders, put the gun down. Let’s talk this out.”
Greg’s eyes are manic. He’s rippling with violence. I’d take satisfaction in the fact that he’s beaten to a pulp, but I won’t rest until he’s been relieved of his goddamn gun.
“Dude,” Blaine says calmly. “Put the gun down.”
“I’m a cop!” Greg rages. “He hit a fucking cop!”
Blaine puts himself between me and Greg’s gun. “Tell me what happened.”
Quinn is still pressed against a dumpster, frozen in fear. Not crying. Not frowning. Nothing. In complete shock. I want to run to her, but I don’t want to draw attention to her. Greg, thankfully, is still focused on me.
“He chased after Quinn,” I spit out. “I found him holding a gun to her head.”
Blaine stiffens. “What the fuck, Sanders?”
“He would have taken what he wanted from her,” I snap. “Because he could. Because he had a gun. Because he’s a fucking cop.” I want to fucking kill him.
Greg sneers. “She was asking for it that night. Drunk as fuck and acting like a whore. Don’t let her convince you otherwise.”
“Asking for what?” Blaine asks, his voice deceptively calm.
My chest bumps Blaine’s back, my eyes searing into Greg’s. “Yeah, motherfucker. What the fuck did my goddamn girlfriend ask you for?”
He laughs cruelly. “Dress like a whore, get treated like one. Act like one, get fucked like one. All those types are the same.”
I push past Blaine and charge for Greg, wrangling his gun away. My fist connects with his nose, making a sick popping sound before I’m once again pulled back. I see people circling around us, and I’m happy as fuck to see Ronan rush over to pick up the discarded gun.
“You’re going to pay for that!” Greg roars. “Assaulting a police officer.”
Ronan snarls. “No one saw shit, man. You fucking tripped.”
Greg stiffens, the realization of his situation hitting him. He’s surrounded by my friends and he’s outed himself as a fucking rapist pig.
“You were my fucking partner. I loved you like family. You have a fucking family.”
“Oh, give me a fucking break. Don’t act all mighty to me. You take the perks of the job. Look at you and Xavi.”
“Perks of the job? You’re what’s wrong with the fucking badge. You pig,” I growl over Blaine.
“You’re going to listen to me, cocksucker,” Blaine says, no longer calm. “You’re going with me right now, and you’re going to turn your badge in.”
“Fuck you,” Greg snarls. “Fuck all of you.”
Blaine, the bigger of the two guys, stalks over to him and grabs two fistfuls of Greg’s shirt before biting his words at him. “You’re going to hand in that goddamn badge or we will come for you. No one will find the remains.”
Greg gapes at him. “This is a joke, right? Or are you really going to take that slut’s side?”
“What’s it going to be?” Ronan barks, backing Blaine.
“I could arrest you all. This is a crime.” Greg spits, swiping at the blood dripping off his chin.
“No,” I snap, “not killing your rapist ass is the crime around here.”
Blaine grips Greg’s bicep and starts hauling him down the alley. “Someone call down to the station. Ask for Paul. Tell him Blaine needs assistance.”