I’m not even listening to her. My head is pounding. I can’t focus on anything except her.
I was in the kitchen against the pantry, trying to get away from Natalia (who can’t take a fucking hint) when she walked by, following that asshole Steve. He’s a two-bit thug who’s trying to rebrand his image with a new nickname that everyone refuses to call him by.
I knew immediately that she doesn’t belong here. She’s a cute little rich girl who’s found herself on the wrong side of the tracks.
She’s small. Gorgeous brown hair with the stunning eyes to match. She reminds me of a chipmunk. Just as small, adorable, and helpless.
These guys will eat her alive.
A protective streak rushed through me as I first locked eyes on her and it’s just been growing with every second that I’ve been staring. I want to go over there, pick her up, and take her away from this place. I want to lock her in my room where it’s safe. Where only I can lay eyes on those sweet soft curves.
“Maybe we should get out of here,” Natalia says as she leans in and brushes her perky tits against my arm. I jerk my arm back, feeling nothing but revulsion as I look down at her. After seeing my little chipmunk, I don’t want anyone else.
She tries to take my hand, but I move it away as I whip my head back around to find her.
Steve has her cornered outside and by the way she’s eying the exits and fidgeting with her hands, I can tell that she isn’t there by choice.
A wave of adrenaline surges through my veins as I brush past Natalia to protect her and be by her side where I belong. My body flexes tight and hard as I charge over there, cracking my knuckles as I stare him down.
He grabs her and something snaps within me.
My civility is gone. Hundreds of years of human progress, culture, and civilization are wiped out with a single touch.
I’m back in the dark ages. I’m primal. Barbaric.
I’m a goddamn caveman about to beat the life out of a rival mate who dared to step into my territory.
The touch breaks me. The restraints of society crack and fall to the floor.
I’m free to defend and take what’s mine.
I rush through the door and grab Steve’s greasy hair just as he’s about to lay his slimy lips on hers. With a grunt, I yank him back hard. He stumbles and falls onto his ass as she recoils back.
“Who’s the dead ma—?”
I smash my fist into his mouth, crunching his words and cracking his front tooth. The girl lets out a scream as I hit him again, and again.
I wouldn’t stop if she wasn’t watching me with wide terrified eyes. I’d gladly end this pathetic piece of shit’s life just for touching my girl, but I don’t want her to see this. Not now.
First impressions are everything and I don’t want mine to be of me killing someone in front of her.
My knuckles are burning as I hold my fist up, cocked and ready to unload some more.
Steve spits out a wad of blood onto his chest as he stares up at me with pure hatred.
“You’re fucking dead, Colton,” he hisses.
I punch him one more time. That one was just for me.
“Give me the phone, Steve,” I order as I hold out my hand.
“It’s Scorpion,” he hisses back. I think I’m going to have to hit him again, but apparently, he’s had enough. He reaches into his pants, pulls out his phone, and slaps it into my open palm.
I hand it to her and the poor girl is so scared that she doesn’t even take it. She’s trembling as her wide, unblinking brown eyes stare at me in shock and fear.
I have to get her out of here.
“You’re going to get fucked up, Colton,” Steve says as he scoots back and then gets to his feet. “My boys are going to kill you.”
I make an exaggerated show of looking around with my hands open. “I don’t see them anywhere.”
I have hundreds of hours in the boxing gym and I can take this guy with ease, but his whole crew? Maybe. I don’t know, but that’s not something I want to risk around this girl. Her safety is my number one priority. Now and forever.
He clenches his bloody jaw as he glares at me. I take a step toward him and his confidence withers. “Whatever,” he says as he starts slinking away toward the house. “She’s a stupid bitch anyway.”
My little chipmunk is looking at her shoes as Steve hurries inside, slamming the screen door behind him. Her cheeks are a shade of red that would make a tomato jealous.
“We should go,” I say, offering my hand. “He’s going to be back with his friends. I can take four or five of them, but any more than that and I’ll be eating shoes while they take more than just your phone.”