Page 5 of Grim’s Angel

The shorter man shifts closer to his partner. “The client requested you by name, Grim. Your club was hired as additional security. You follow our car to Vegas and keep outside threats away from the asset.”

Grim.

It sounds less like a name and more like the last thing a man hears before meeting his maker.

Grim’s expression barely changes, but tension rolls across the parking lot.

“My brief said protected transport,” he says. “It didn’t say the woman was unwilling.”

“She signed an agreement.”

“Then let the paper ride to Vegas. She said no.”

The words strike somewhere beneath my ribs.

The shorter man pulls his jacket aside, revealing the grip of a weapon. “Stay in your lane, Sinner.”

Grim’s mouth curves without humor.

“You’re standing in it.”

The tall man reaches inside his coat.

Grim moves before he can draw.

He seizes the man’s wrist and drives him face-first against the sedan’s hood. Metal buckles beneath the impact, and a gun drops from the man’s coat. Grim kicks it beneath the car as the shorter man charges.

A fist swings toward his jaw. Grim catches it, turns the man’s arm, and buries his elbow beneath the ribs. The man folds around the blow, giving Grim the opening to drive a knee into his stomach and throw him against the rear door.

The sedan rocks on its suspension.

The tall man tears himself from the hood and attacks again. Grim ducks beneath the punch, drives his shoulder into the man’s chest, and slams him backward hard enough to dent the metal.

He fights as if violence belongs to him. Every strike lands where it will do the most damage, and every movement places his body between me and the men who tried to take me.

I should be searching for an escape.

Instead, I watch rain follow the hard edge of his jaw and disappear beneath his collar. His wet shirt stretches across his chest each time he moves, while ink shifts over the muscles in his arms.

My body decides this is an excellent time to wonder how those arms would feel around me.

I am revoking its decision-making privileges.

The shorter man pushes away from the sedan and reaches behind his back.

Grim catches him by the throat and pins him against the car.

“Try it.”

The invitation comes out soft enough to make my skin tighten.

The man’s hand falls away from his weapon.

Grim releases him with a shove.

“You have no idea what you’re interfering with,” the man rasps.

Grim glances at me.