Page 30 of The Stallion (Men Under Revue #2)

Dallas

“Bria!” I barked, aggressively forcing my way into the suite and finding my wife motionless on the bed next to her equally prone target, the both of them covered in fucking blood. “Sweet girl…” My voice softened and broke as I scooped my arms under her.

I pulled her limp and heavy body to mine, feeling the side of her neck for a pulse, releasing a shaky, whimpered breath when I found it—weak, but unmistakably there.

Thank fucking god…

“I-I’m fine…” She wheezed, and my vision bled as red as her hair when I took in the deep blue and purple fingerprints around her throat. “I just… I need some air.”

She’s not fine; this wasn’t fucking fine. Why didn’t she ask for help when things got out of control ?

“Hang on, baby, I’ve got you. I’m going to get you out of here.

.. I’m taking you home.” I leaned over, snatching up her jacket from off the floor and draping it over her chest to cover most of the visible blood.

I then collected her heels, securing my hold on her before standing from the edge of the bed and preparing for our immediate departure.

None of this fucking blood better be hers…

I didn’t have time to search her body over for any other wounds aside from the bruises on her neck. Hopefully that was the extent of her injuries, and the blood all belonged to the dead fucker laying on the bed.

Cradling Bria in my arms, I quickly descended the VIP stairs, my grip tightening around her body as I took a hard left to the nearest emergency exit, purposely avoiding any crowded or high-traffic halls, wanting to get the fuck out of this club unnoticed.

Although this may have been a club owned and operated by the MUR, we still had to keep our business hidden from others, and carrying a woman covered in blood out the front entrance wouldn’t be the wisest of decisions, even if it were the fastest route out of here.

Before busting my way through the security door of the illusion suite, I had already sent multiple texts to Dustin, stating that her test had been completed successfully and that we were ready for clean-up.

The cleaners enlisted for the MUR were typically quick with their timing and diligent in their craft.

After issuing the clean-up order, they responded within minutes and were usually on-site in under fifteen minutes.

Depending on the mess left behind, from start to finish, they could have a room looking brand fucking new in under a few short hours.

With the amount of blood my wife had spilled and the spatter that coated the walls and drapes, this would be one of their longer processes.

Bria did a fucking number on the guy, I could barely recognize his face once she was through with him. The sorry son-of-a-bitch didn’t stand a chance.

Once we had reached the car, I opened the passenger door and gently lowered my sweet girl into her seat.

At this point, I probably should have checked her for any life-threatening wounds, but my heart and mind were racing at a rate where I couldn’t spare a single second to process anything past just fucking leaving.

I knelt on the pavement beside her, gently removing the jacket I had draped across her chest. I then ran my trembling hands along every square inch of her body, actively checking her arms, stomach, chest, and neck.

Her fucking neck…

Every time I saw the bruise marks, I could feel a knot forming in my stomach.

“Dallas,” Bria rasped, raising a hand to cradle the side of my face and lifting my eyes to meet hers. Out of instinct, I leaned into her comforting touch, her palm warm—reinforcing that she was alive and I wasn’t just imagining her safety to protect my own fucking sanity .

“Why didn’t you ask me for help?… I’m allowed to help you, Bria. That’s the whole point of having married couples in the MUR—so we can work together and not handle these jobs alone anymore.”

A partner in more than just life itself.

“I had it under control—”

“Bullshit, look at yourself—”

“Don’t come at me like that after everything that just happened in that room.

” Her stern gaze seared into mine as she snapped with a fire unlike any I had seen before.

And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it made me want her even fucking more.

“I completed my test. I killed my assigned target, and I’m fine. I’m alive, I’m breathing, I’m—”

“You’re caked in another man’s blood—”

“Wasn’t that the whole point of my fucking test? To spill blood and prove my worth to your fucked up secret society? My loyalty to you?”

To spill, not paint the fucking room like murder was her muse.

“That’s not—You still should’ve— fuck …” Unable to prevent myself from stumbling over more words, I sucked on my teeth as I hung my head and reassessed our situation.

I didn’t want to fight with her—to argue. Everything she had said was valid—the truth—and I was too stubborn to accept it.

I was the one who put her in harm’s way with the marriage.

I was the one who let her go into her test alone.

Even though my hands never maliciously touched her, I was at fault for all of this.

And it fucking sucked to admit it.

“Dallas, I’m okay.” Bria leaned her body forward, pressing her forehead against my temple and nuzzling it softly as she murmured, “He didn’t hurt me.”

“Your neck—” My voice cracked at the word, still unable to meet her gaze, the guilt swallowing me whole.

I wasn’t a man known for showing weakness, not with the path that had been paved before me. My father raised me to understand the importance of being strong and unforgiving, but this woman had managed to bring it out of me single-handedly in such a short period of time.

“Will heal… Unlike Leroy’s multiple stab wounds to the back, chest, and face.” I could hear the slight lilt in her tone—an attempt to lighten the mood that had started weighing me down.

Bria had turned into my everything over the weeks leading up to tonight, and in the blink of an eye, I nearly lost my sweet girl, just as fast as I had found her.

“Don’t you ever fucking do something like that to me again… I thought—I thought I was going to lose you.”

“Oh you poor fucking man…” She subtly mocked, forcing my chin up to face her.

“You’re stuck with me until one of us goes to hell—” Her eyes dropped to my mouth as she traced her thumb along my lower lip.

“And if I go first, you can bet your sorry, well-toned ass, that I’ll be dragging you down right along with me. ”

If she could move past what had just occurred, then so could I—her brazen confidence in what she had done, pulling me back. But, no matter how confident she may be after this, I refused to risk letting it happen again.

She was mine to protect, and I would make sure that she was safe at whatever cost. Bria would always be my number one priority. There wasn’t a single thing that she could do to make me believe otherwise.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, my sweet girl.” Wrapping a hand around the back of her neck, I pulled her the rest of the way toward me, crashing her mouth against mine with an intensely deep kiss.

My wife may be covered in blood, but she was mine forevermore—completing her test all on her own like a fucking badass.

I don’t know how she managed to do it, and none of those details mattered—at least not right this second.

“Can we go home now? If I remember correctly, you promised me multiple explosive orgasms.”

“See, murder turns you on, too, wifey. That alone justifies that we were made for each other.”

“Being alive turns me on. Now, get your fine ass in the car and drive before I change my mind.” She sarcastically huffed, crossing her arms over her chest with a look that made me want to just drag her into the backseat and fuck her right this very second. Because why wait when she was ready to go?

But instead—being the gentleman I was and displaying the utmost restraint for my sexual fucking needs—I chuckled, pushing myself up to stand and shutting her door before getting in the car and driving us home with a long sigh of welcome relief.

My wife was safe, and from this moment on, mine to keep.