Page 22

“Any last words,” she says breathlessly.
I could say this is a fantastic position to be in if I was fucking, but currently, that’s nowhere near the case. If I don't do something, I will die, she’ll make sure of it. I let out a low groan containing my grunts, so it’s not too loud. She squeezes again and I tense at the pressure.
“Yeah. Fuck. You.”
Finding a solution quickly, I skate my hands down her thighs—not noticing the plushness of her meat under my palms, of course—then under her hoodie. She stiffens, her legs gripping tighter, and then I dig my thumbs directly into her waist bone. Hard enough to cause it to crack, painful enough to bruise.
A muffled scream fills her throat, loosening her grip. I take this moment to get out of her hold, rise, and go after the gun.
I inhale sharply, shaking my head from how fucking lightheaded I’ve become from that combat chokehold. Everything is dizzy and twisted, but I rush over to the gun near the left trees, stumbling as I do. My hand outstretched, I reach for the weapon, but her weight topples on my back, wrapping her legs around my waist. One hand gripping my hair and the other elbow punching into my shoulder. I grunt, gritting my teeth from the hits.
I reach my arms over my head, gripping the top of her head, getting a chunk of her hair tucked in her hoodie and throwing her over my shoulder.
“You’re crazy,” I growl in an angry whisper, but she lands on her feet, twirling around, and mule kicking me. “Goddammit,” I spit out under my breath, tumbling back against this damn tree again.
“Watch what you say next, or I’ll cut out your tongue before killing you.” Her voice is oddly soothing amidst her threat. Like someone you want to hear singing lullabies but laced with a wicked tone that’ll make your ears bleed in the process. I can’t help the thrill that spikes in my chest.
She glides to me with that sultry switch to her hips. With the mask still blocking her face, the darkness overshadows her form, making her look like she was born from the night sky. Prancing about like a fucking snake, slithering beneath the cracks.
My eyes roam over her body, still ignoring the thump from the beat of my heart. “I normally wait to take a lady home before doing anything with my tongue.” I lean off the tree, putting my fist up to prepare for attack. I don’t believe in fighting innocent women or putting my hands on them, but she’s clearly fucking crazy and wants to kill me—so I’m not backing down for shit.
But she stops mid-walk. Something in her shifts. Her chest rises and falls, her hesitation obvious.
My brows scrunch at her sudden stillness. “What?La Serpiente venenosa,afraid to get bitten?” I say, my fist remaining at my chin.
We begin to move in a circling motion. I’m eyeing her feet, and I can’t tell what she’s looking at beneath that mask of hers. But I’m sick of it, and I’m ready to snatch it off so she can reveal herself to me.
Our movements are slow and methodical. She hums out, “The only one that should be afraid is you.” Her words quiver angrily, then she stops mid-movement. “Ronan.”
My brows furrow deep, but before I can register a reaction, she’s charging toward me.
Her small fist swings at my face quickly, but I block each hit. It feels like a rope is wrapped around my throat, squeezing and pulling until I can’t breathe. She knows my name. How the hell does she notice it’s me?
Who in the fuck is she?
I need an answer NOW. Entrenched in my thoughts, I didn’t block her incoming hit fast enough, giving her the leverage to punch me in my mouth. She goes to swing again, but my hand catches her wrist, twisting it until she yelps, leaning over like a rag doll. Then I launch my knee into her stomach.
And no—I’m not satisfied. Metallic rims my mouth, laying on my tongue, alerting me I’m bleeding because of heragain. Now that she’s leaned over, her arm twisted in the air, I pull her hood off her head, only to see an array of long curly hair falling out and around her.
Still, I take a handful of her locks, as much as I can fit into my fucking hand, and swing her into the tree. Slamming her hard enough that the branches shake, releasing a trickle of leaves now falling around us.
She yelps out again with a whimpering moan. Her body slacks, but I won’t let her fall.
I look to the side, seeing the gun within arm’s reach by the stump of the tree. I bend over and grab it; the cold metal tingling in my hand.
Her body shifts, moaning still. My hand grips her neck tight, lifting her to her tiptoes, scrapping her back against the tree. She lets out another strangled whimper, wrapping her dainty fingers around my wrist, scraping at the skin, kicking her feet to pushme away. But that only makes me squeeze tighter. My other hand points the barrel of the gun to her head.
“Speak now or your brains will be part of this tree,” I warn, my head throbbing with heat and my muscles aching to pull this trigger.
The doors to the bar open and Henley stands out. Both of our heads snapped to him. He can’t see us. I face her slowly, and I insert the gun into her mouth. Although her mouth is exposed, her face remains covered by the mask. I press the metal further in, nostrils flaring and eyes, warning her that if she does anything that Iwillshoot her in the mouth and then snap her neck.
To my surprise, she doesn’t move until he goes back inside. She attempts to kick me, but I press my legs into her knees, slamming her against the wood again. She groans, her hand going to her head.
“Now tell me who the fuck are you,” I snarl through biting teeth, my face close to the spikes protruding from the masks. “How the hell do you know me?”
“See for yourself.” She wheezes, her breath scattered from my tight grip, but I don’t give a damn; she’s going to talk—even if her pipes are broken.
“Take it off.” I wave the gun at her mask. I can feel her swallow beneath my palm. Her hand raises to the mask. My heart rate picks up a notch, worried I’m going to see a woman with a grossly deformed face, but instead she pulls it off and my heart grips in my chest, and it plummets to the ground.