Page 204 of Reaper

Justin’s eyes snap open at the contact and I can’t help my dark grin as the asshole tries to free his hands from my grip. Unfortunately, one of his hands manages to slip free and he reaches up toward his pillow. Not having any of that, I roughly grabbed his arm and yank it back behind his back. I secure the zip ties around his wrists, making sure they are extra tight and then lean down by his ear, pushing more of my weight into his back. Pulling my gun, I press the barrel to his temple.

“You made a big fucking mistake, Justin. You laid your hands on my President’s Old Lady. And to make matters worse, youhurt my Honey Bee.” My voice is damn near a growl at the end, and he winces as I dig my knee even harder into his back while pushing my gun harder into his temple. “I’m going to enjoy making you bleed.”

His face pales as he stutters. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t done anything,” he whimpers and my lip curls when the smell of urine reaches my nose.

Ignoring his pleas, I holster my gun as I ease up off him. I pat him down, being careful to avoid his piss stained pants as much as possible. I remove a knife from his belt and another from his right boot. Grabbing his pillow, I find his gun. I empty the chamber as well as the clip before pocketing it and the knives.

Justin’s pleas turn into rants and promises of what he’ll do to me when he gets his hands on me. Rolling my eyes at him, I turn toward Odin who’s drawn both of his guns again and has them trained on both Justin and Dane.

He gives me a chin lift. “Go, I’ve got these two.”

Clasping him on the shoulder, I head back into the hallway and peak into the room across from us. I was right—it is Sara’s room and I’m relieved to see no one in there. A possessive fury rolls through me as my gaze lands once again on the bed, pissed that another man has had his hands on my woman. And his cock in her.

Nope.

I shut that line of thought down quickly otherwise I’ll be going on a killing rampage and we can’t have that. Not yet at least. First, we need information out of these assholes.

Walking down the hallway, I step into the first room, grinning in approval at seeing Alvin and Ryan trussed up already. Though I do notice Smithy is now sporting a cut on his cheek that Doc’s checking out.

“Fucker nicked me with his knife before I could get it out of his hands.”

“Luckily, it’s not a deep one, so it shouldn’t scar,” Doc says as he wipes an alcohol wipe across his cheek.

I clasp Smithy’s shoulder, hating that he got hurt, but thankful it wasn’t worse.

He gives me a chin lift, letting me know he’s good. “Go get your woman, Devil,” he tells me with a smirk.

I return his smirk. “I think I will.” My stomach churns. Fuck, I hope she still wants to be my woman.

I’m barely able to restrain myself from running downstairs, but the thought of freaking Sara out has me staying light on my feet.

Downstairs, I find Drake’s back to me as he leans heavily against the door frame while one hand cups his junk and the other is held up in a placating manner. Meanwhile, Sara’s arm is pulled back, ready to punch Drake again.

“We really mean you no harm, Ma’am. We’re just here for your brother and his friends.”

Sara scowls at the word ‘brother’. “That fucker lost the right to call himself my ‘brother’ a long time ago.” She pauses as she pulls her arm back a bit farther. “Now where is,” her voice trails off as I step up behind Drake and he looks over his shoulder, his body visibly sagging in relief.

“Thank fuck. You weren’t kidding about her stinging like a bee,” he mutters under his breath as he steps back, wincing as he limps out of the way.

I cock an eyebrow at him and my lips twitch a I fight not to smirk. I warned him my woman was a spitfire.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. You warned me,” he mumbles and hobbles across the kitchen to sit in the chair.

I turn my focus back to Sara who is staring at me like she’s seen a ghost, which makes no sense. My gaze roams her body and of course, my traitorous dick twitches in my pants at remembering our last night together.

She’s gotten curvier over the past few months and fuck do those curves make her look even sexier than before. Her hair’s a little longer than before, and frankly, I think longer hair looks better on her than the almost shoulder length style she used to sport. But then I spot the dark circles under her eyes and the bruises, both old and new, littered on her arms and neck. Since she’s wearing soft lounge pants, I have no idea if the fucker’s hurt her elsewhere, but I’m betting he did. My gaze zeroes in on her lips, and my temper flares again at seeing that Justin must have busted her lip open when he hit her earlier. It looks like it must have gotten bumped or something when she was handing Drake his ass because it’s bleeding again.

I step forward only to stop a few feet in front of her, not sure if she wants me to touch her.

“D…Devil? Is that really you?” she asks and I nod.

“It’s me, Honey Bee. I’m here.”

She rushes toward me and I wrap my arms around her as she clings to me. I’m a little over six feet tall, but Sara’s short at just about five feet tall. Not that that’s ever bothered me before. Looking back, I now realize I’ve always preferred shorter women. I think Becky was the tallest woman I’ve ever dated and she was five and a half feet tall. Leaning down, I breathe in Sara’s scent, something that smells like champagne, and it feels like a weight has finally been lifted off my chest at having her in my arms again.

“I’m sorry,” Sara sobs over and over as she clings to me.

My arms tighten around her. “Shh, Honey Bee. You have nothing to be sorry about.”