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Chapter Two
Asha
T he strange man’s startling light eyes were already on me, watching like no detail was missed, sinking into my goddamn soul for all I knew.
Is this bro wearing grey contacts? That color isn’t natural.
From head to toe, he looked dangerous. Everything about him sung of repeat offender. He didn’t look like some underling to a mafia boss; he looked like he ran the entire operation. Although, his clothes didn’t immediately give that impression. Instead, it was the confidence in his stare that said he’d smash his fists on whoever decided it was a good idea to challenge him. And with how many rings he wore, just a bash with his fist was going to break bone.
But holy fuck was this dangerous dude hot.
The stranger’s dark hair was pushed back to expose the strong lines of his face. Even with his powerful body leaned up against the wall, he was easily halfway, probably more, between six and seven feet. Maybe his father was a giant, maybe he drank a lot of milk growing up, but whatever it was, he easily dwarfed any man nearby. I didn’t even know they made them this big, so I was both intrigued and wary.
His calf-high biker boots were crossed at the ankles, and his arms were uncomfortably large as he folded them over his chest, saying nothing but always watching. A wicked demon skull was painted on his shirt, and I noticed several of his rings were variations of the same skull.
Metal much?
Loath as I was to admit it, he was obnoxiously delicious for someone who probably murdered for a living. The throb between my legs told me he wasn’t scary enough to drive away my sexual urges. I hated how much I weighed my own safety against the desire to climb him like a tree and see if he rose to the challenge of sex god.
All I knew as I finished my much-too-long assessment of Mr. Killer was that I didn’t want to catch his eye any longer than I already had. Better to keep moving and pretend he wasn’t staring than to find out what sort of intentions swam in those unnaturally grey-white eyes of his. Something told me when he decided he wanted something, he took it. I’d already dealt with one of those, and I didn’t need to walk right into another one. Not even if he was easily the most gorgeous guy I’d ever crossed paths with.
Because then I’d really be asking for it.
But when Mr. Killer’s eyes suddenly flitted from my face to something behind me, I was forced to steal a glance over my shoulder in curiosity. Bad Lay was making his way over to where I was, the topography of his face twisted with rage. I didn’t wait to find out why. I already knew I’d pissed him off enough to give chase.
Me and my damn mouth.
Better move some money over from my savings for bail because it looks like I’m going to be punishing a bruised ego tonight.
Passing the stranger whose eyes seemed to drive out all the air in my lungs, I headed for the bathroom. I’d camp out there to clean my shirt, then I’d make my escape when the pissed-off frat boy gave up. With any luck, I’d evade another guy who couldn’t handle hearing the truth. If not, I’d get a good hit in, knock the asshole to the ground, and run away before someone called the cops.
If I’d called Bad Lay right, he’d be way too embarrassed to press charges. His ego wouldn’t permit that kind of shame. But just in case, I’d text Emily a quick message about damaging some toxic bro’s ego, and she’d be on standby to get me out of jail. You know, as long as I gave her a play-by-play on how I punished him.
I dipped into the bathroom after cutting the line ahead of the other women waiting to use the toilets. I made myself busy with washing and drying my shirt. Emily’s text came in only minutes after I sent mine, and I wasn’t surprised that she’d already left with some guy.
Ems: Just head back to the apartment, chick. Evade the fight tonight at all costs. I’ve flown the coop for a sweet boy with desperate eyes and a penchant for being spanked by a domme mommy. I mean it. Do. Not. Engage.
Me: Roger, roger, El Capi-tan. I think he’s given up, so I’ll just head back home and see you in the morning.
I pocketed my phone and sighed at my face in the mirror. My elusive green eyes beamed an angry iridescence thanks to the shoddy lighting in this bathroom. Even I had to admit I gave all those hot punk girl vibes the guys went gaga for, but now I’d reap none of the reward.
What a waste.
It annoyed me that some guy with a fragile ego was the reason my night was over, but it was my own fault for running my mouth. I knew better. It never went well when I spat the facts they weren’t ready to hear, and guys like him were particularly nasty when I did.
I headed out of the bathroom after checking that Bad Lay wasn’t waiting for me. When I didn’t see him, I took the quickest route out of the club. Once free of the throbbing beat of the building, I inhaled a grateful breath and headed down the usual alley to go home. After turning the first corner, I was about halfway through the second alley when someone called out to me from behind.
“Hey, bitch. Where do you think you’re going?”
I pivoted on my heels, the wrath of my female ancestors crowding my chest. Before I could bark something terrifyingly witty, I noticed the asshole hadn’t come alone. In both directions, several guys who were practically clone copies of Bad Lay barked and howled, closing in on me like the beasts they were.
Great, he has friends just as psychopathic.
We weren’t far from civilization, but this shortcut didn’t face a main street after I turned the corner. It was also far too narrow to give me much dodging and dashing room. Which meant that they’d waited to get me here so they could act on whatever horror they’d contrived for me. If I called someone, they wouldn’t get here in time.
I was on my own.
Like I was trained to do, any emotions I felt didn’t surface in my expression. I didn’t let the fear reach my chest. Doing a slow turn, I counted off the barking assholes. Normally, I’d laugh at the outright ridiculousness of their joint endeavor to appear intimidating while sounding like a bunch of house pets, but it was me who’d pay the heaviest price if I didn’t focus.
Five. Shit . I could take two, maybe three if I was in better shape, but five wasn’t something I trained for. Street fights didn’t compare to competition-level fighting. Guys like them played dirty. I’d need to be clever to get out of this unscathed.
This wasn’t the movies. I couldn’t pull a Jackie Chan no matter how much I wanted to. The fighter in me yearned to stick around and see if I could make any of them cry, but I knew I was better off running. So, that was exactly what I’d do once they gave me an opening.
No doubt, they’d underestimate me, so I was the one with the advantage, not them. They’d get cocky with their man-muscles and overwhelming number, but I was fast as shit and hadn’t gotten the buzz I wanted earlier. Now I was starting to think that getting splashed with my drink was a blessing in disguise.
“Bitches like you need to be taught a lesson,” Bad Lay growled, the charming mask coming right off.
I’d called him right from the start. What we had here was a full-grown, bona fide predator. Even his lines were right out of the serial rapist playbook. Worse, he’d found people as equally depraved and violent as he was. From the way they closed in on me, they’d done this before.
Someone out there had been their first victim. Someone was already living every day with unresolved fear and trauma because of this shitty group of beasts. So, for that victim and any others targeted by these bastards, I’d get a few hits in before I made my escape.
Funny how I’d been running from an unknown offender every night in my dreams for months, but now that I was surrounded by them, I wasn’t panicking the same way. If anything, I was numb and terrifyingly calm. I didn’t have a reason to think this would end well. To anyone else, I wasn’t going to come out of this night alive. But for some reason, it felt like I wasn’t alone. Like there was a force greater than myself keeping me safe.
Before I could ponder the feeling, one of the assholes from behind made a grab for me. I evaded his reach and used his own weight to send the bastard colliding with the asphalt. He hit the ground with a groan. I drove my heel into his stomach, intent on puncturing it, and his cry told me I’d at least done damage.
His buddy ran at me next, far larger than the first. He wasn’t strong in the sense of muscles. He just had weight on him. It’d be harder to lift his body over mine without causing substantial injury to myself, so I opted for assaults that crippled him quickly. I’d use his excessive fat against him.
Before the new asshole could get close enough to get his arms around me, I landed the flat of my foot on his kneecap to disable it. Without wasting another movement, I kicked my leg out and sunk my heel into his stomach. I used all my strength to push him back, because heavy bastards like him couldn’t keep their balance at a certain point. He teetered, his own weight his greatest adversary, and fell straight back. When the fat bastard cracked his head on the ground, I recovered several steps to get space between us.
I didn’t have time to worry if I’d killed him or not. With my exit cleared of attackers, I started to run the opposite direction so I could get to a more trafficked walkway. But one of the bastards on the ground snatched my ankle, and I lost my footing.
Protecting my head, I hit the asphalt on my side. The impact took the wind out of me. It’d been a long time since I landed on something hard enough to feel the echo of it in my bones, so it took me longer than usual to recover.
It was a mistake I couldn’t afford to make.
Bad Lay was already flipping me onto my back, his confidence that I was subdued lifting his mouth into a sinister smile. I got my fingers on him, ready to rip his face to shreds, but the other two pack members held my arms down while the first two I’d taken out recovered from what I’d done to them.
Not dead. Unfortunately.
“That’s better. You put up a good fight, but you’ll be crying when I put this massive cock inside you. You’ll hate how much you like it.”
I spat in my attacker’s face, grunting and fighting off one of the guys who tried to slide his hand up my leg. “Your micro-penis has never satisfied a woman, which is the entire reason you’re here forcing it on one, you sadistic shit.”
Murderous rage burned in my attacker’s eyes before he wrapped his hands around my throat and squeezed until I couldn’t take in air. “I think it’s better when you can’t talk, slut. Let’s hope you don’t die too quickly. I want you to feel every single cock that rips you wide open everywhere there’s a hole before we leave you here like the whore you are for everyone to find.”
So not just a serial rapist. A killer.
The reality of my situation settled into my stomach, and the urge to vomit struck so hard I worried I couldn’t stop it. But I’d be the one to suffer if I threw up. I didn’t want to fight this hard only to asphyxiate on my own disgust.
The asshole relinquished his hold on my throat long enough to allow me to cough and suck in greedy gulps of air, but it was only so he and his revolting asshole crew could get the button and zipper of their pants open to do what they threatened.
But not without a fucking fight.
I kicked my legs up, hitting the gross pervert hovering over me in the stomach. Growling, he violently prized my thighs apart, and his buddies pinned my feet to the ground to keep my legs open. I struggled, bucking my body and trying desperately to dislodge the weight restraining my limbs, but my head knew what my heart refused to acknowledge.
They’d gotten me.
I wasn’t going to get away. I was better off waiting for another opportunity. But I kept fighting. I tried over and over to outmaneuver them and get the bastards off me, writhing and struggling because my life depended on it. I’d never let them have the satisfaction of my tears or fear.
I’d fight until I was fucking dead.
Bad Lay tore through my pantyhose to get it out of the way, but then the weight holding down my arms and legs was suddenly gone. I could move them again, and it didn’t make any sense why. In my confusion, I peered down, thoughts in disarray. I couldn’t see them. And then I noticed Bad Lay was no longer above me. He’d just disappeared…
I couldn’t figure out what was happening until I heard someone out of eyeshot make a sound that was an odd mix of a moan and scream. The sounds that followed were grotesque. Like I was in the middle of a horror movie where someone was dismembering several bodies. It was the haunting sound of bones breaking and flesh tearing. Deep voices groaned and pleaded for their lives before they all went deadly quiet.
The sound of liquid hitting the pavement finally encouraged me to sit up. It wasn’t happening to me, but I couldn’t be sure I wasn’t next. If I had to run, I needed to see what I was running away from. Because the way it sounded, it wasn’t human.
Or maybe it was better to play dead.
Fuck, I don’t know.
I blinked, my entire body quaking despite the vow I made to never show an ounce of fear.
At first, I didn’t know what I was looking at. The stranger from the club was standing in the middle of nothing but carnage. Discarded limbs, disfigured bodies, and pools of blood were scattered all around him. Somewhere in my head, I made the connection that these were the men who attacked me, but it was like I couldn’t rectify the sight with my knowledge of the world.
Someone couldn’t just…tear a person apart with their bare hands, could they? I didn’t see a weapon. It was just him and his blood-coated hands. So, how did he do it? What human had that sort of strength? What human could dismember several bodies in seconds flat?
I found it hard to breathe as I held myself up on shaky arms, my head working hard to rationalize what I was seeing.
The guy who’d terrified me with his mere gaze was out here doing something impossible. I’d called him like the others, but I wished I hadn’t. I wished I’d fucking stayed home. Because getting attacked by a predator frat crew wasn’t anything when you compared it to a killer with inhuman strength. All I could hope was he wasn’t here to do the same thing to me.
Only the side of his face was visible from where I was on the ground, but something about it was off. Different from what I remembered. Menacing and full of homicidal intentions. Darker. Like he could see into their very souls and read every sin they’d committed. And he’d make them pay.
Tonight, he’d send them straight to Hell.
Mr. Killer lifted Bad Lay by the throat. The guy was easily two-hundred-plus pounds, but the terrifying man from the club hauled him into the air with one hand like he weighed nothing at all. It was surreal to watch Bad Lay struggling inside the deadly hold before going completely limp. His eyes stayed with his attacker, no longer fighting. The bastard hadn’t passed out, but it was like he’d lost every urge to live. Like he’d been put under a spell.
It’d be smarter to close my eyes—the next bit was going to give me nightmares for the rest of my life—but I couldn’t stop watching. Deep down, I wanted the asshole to die for what he’d tried to do to me, and for what he’d likely already done to others. In the dark, hateful part of my heart, I was glad someone made sure these assholes never hurt another person.
Mr. Killer whispered something I couldn’t hear before blood started to stream out of Bad Lay’s eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. A symbol I didn’t recognize appeared like it’d been branded onto my attacker’s forehead, burning the skin a vibrant red. The area around his eyes hollowed and turned pitch-black. The darkness replaced what had been Bad Lay’s eyes, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d be convinced I was hallucinating.
Maybe Bad Lay slipped something into my drink when I wasn’t looking. Because no matter how I spun it, what I just witnessed defied every logical truth I’d been taught about this world. It was, to put it simply, fucking supernatural.
Mr. Killer tossed the hollow-eyed man to the ground. Again, I was frozen to the spot as he stepped over the massacre he was single-handedly responsible for. Like none of it bothered him—probably because it didn’t—the giant killer stalked over to me, his face splattered with my attackers’ blood.
I stared at him, confused at first when the terrifying man crouched down to the floor, his head tilting to one side in greeting. “Come on, little raven. It’s time to go.”
Without waiting, he led my arm around his shoulders and gently lifted me under the back of my knees and waist into his arms. It was ironic how careful he was with me after literally tearing five men apart just seconds beforehand.
If I wasn’t in a state of shock—for a lot of fucking reasons—I would’ve demanded he tell me who he was and what he was doing. But for some reason, the minute I was in his arms, everything inside of me quieted. My heart slowed. My erratic breathing calmed. I stopped shaking. And when a cloak of impenetrable blackness wrapped around us, I tucked my head under his chin and closed my eyes, finally safe when I’d been so close to death.