Page 119 of Tracking Luxe
“Do yourself a favor and keep your fucking mouth shut.” Grinder warned the loud mouth between clenched teeth, his temper wafer thin, and climbed out when they got out ahead of him. “Point me where the fuck to go.” Tense under his skin, his jaw tightened almost grinding his teeth to dust, his eyes tracked around what was essentially the empty basement. Lots of space, plenty of closed off rooms.
Lots of hiding space for mobsters and their guns.
All that he could give ten fucks about.
His mind was racing.
Was she here?
God. Don’t be here.The chant bounced in his head. Grinder could deal with anything but that.
He trusted this was a colossal fucking hoax. It didn’t matter what happened to him, he had no care about that, but if Luxe was somehow here, he’d lose his fucking mind.
In his thirty-four years of life he’d never felt possessive of another person; Until Luxe. So, he sure has hell would walk himself into obvious danger if it meant his girl would be okay.
Anxious.
Spine rigid, he eyeballed dickhead one and waited for an answer.
A gut feeling told Grinder he was walking into a trap.
That unease increased when dickhead two shoved the palm of his hand into his shoulder and told Grinder to get moving. Sick of their shit, he rounded to tell the moron to keep his hands to himself and or headbutt the fucker, Grinder wasn’t feeling patient at all to deal with the likes of him.
He didn’t have the chance to do anything. What with the butt of a gun hitting his temple and his knees collapsing out from under him. The crunch of bone connecting to concrete was deafening.
Motherfucker!Lights popped behind his eyeballs like his brain was a second from checking out of consciousness.
And then it got much worse.
Grinder wasn’t given a chance to stagger back to his dizzy feet, his world tilting on its axis, bile instantly in his throat, he was hit again and again by two pairs of boots and thick fists.
In the head.
Body blows.
In the kidneys.
Hard-worn boots connecting to his chest and spine.
Pain exploded in his head making the nausea rise like the fucking sea in his insides.
Blood began to pour out of his face.
“Stupid asshole.”
“Not so smart now, biker.Da?”
“What you think would happen, huh?” Another kick.
Grinder got in a few licks of his own, noise roared in his ears. But one pinned him, the other wailed on his body.
Blow after blow.
“Stupid American.”
Blow after blow. Pain exploded all over his body.
“That is enough Anton.” A voice from the far corner called out. The noise echoed in the cavernous space. “Bring him here.”
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