Page 13 of The Devil

From the moment I laid eyes on Jenna, I became obsessed with her. I should be worried about the strong reaction I have toward her, but instead, I find myself curious to know more.

I want to know every single little detail about her.

I want to steal her away from the gas station and lock her in a room where only I can look at her.

I want to explore every inch of her body and find out just how innocent she is.

I want Jenna Dotson all for myself.

Which is fucking insane. I’m always in control. Work is all that matters. But still, I’m so captivated by Jenna, I can’t stop myself from watching her.

Men wearing worn jeans, T-shirts, and leather cuts come out of the bar, they’re eyes locked on my SUV.

I push the door open and pull my gun out from behind my back, where it’s tucked into my waistband. Flicking off the safety, I stay behind the door for cover as I stare them down.

“Who’s the leader?” I ask, but it comes out sounding more like an order.

One of the men takes a step forward while tapping on the badge sewn into his cut. “I’m the vice president. You must beEnzo. We heard you were here but didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to come to our bar.”

My eyes narrow again as I lock eyes with the man.

“Your factory has been open for over a month,” he says with a smirk. “You owe us ten thousand dollars for July, and while you’re at it, you can pay us up front for August.”

The corner of my mouth lifts as a chuckle rumbles from my chest.

I didn’t plan on attacking so soon, but hell, why not? Now is as good a time as any.

I check the other men’s patches, and when I see one that says Sgt. at Arms, I don’t hesitate. My arm flies up and I pull the trigger. I shoot him in the shoulder, and just because I really want to make a statement, I shoot another man in the leg and the vice-president in his side as they all duck for cover behind their bikes.

Just as they all pull their weapons out and open fire on the SUV, I get back into the driver's seat and start the engine.

As the wheels spin, kicking up a cloud of dust, I speed onto the road and floor the gas.

A wide smile spreads over my face, my heart beating a little faster.

That was fun.

Soon enough, I hear engines roar, and checking the rearview mirror, I see four motorcycles coming after me.

I slow down, giving them time to catch up to me, and when the first one comes up beside my SUV, I turn the steering wheel sharply, slamming into the bike and sending him careening off the road.

I let down my window before I slam on the brakes, and as the other bikers swerve to try and avoid a collision, I dart out of the SUV and open fire on them, hitting two while the third lets his motorcycle slide to avoid the bullets.

The man climbs to his feet and glares at me.

I make a show of tucking my gun back into my waistband, then take off my jacket and toss it on the driver’s seat.

As I walk a few steps closer, he says, “You’re dead meat.”

I shrug and indicate with an impatient wave for him to attack.

He lets out an angry roar as he charges me, and when he takes a wild swing at me, I lean back, avoiding his fist. He almost loses his balance, and I go on the offense, delivering a blow to his kidney. As the air whooshes from his lungs, I move faster, punching him consecutively in the face, which causes him to stagger backward.

I launch my body into the air and kick him in the throat, and as he drops to his ass, I land on my feet.

Adjusting my vest, I roll my neck before I stare down at the man now covered in blood. “I don’t care whose territory this is. If you cause any further trouble at my factory or interfere with my trucks transporting my goods, I will kill every last one of you.” I take a step closer to where he’s groaning on the hot surface of the road, and I nudge his gut with the point of my shoe. “Stay out of my business, and I’ll stay out of yours.”

“This is Demons’ territory, fucker,” he growls.