Page 124 of Sterling Heat

Seconds later, it rings again.

In the distance, I hear the dull sound of an approaching car and the powerful roar of a motorcycle. When a second sheriff’s vehicle pulls up behind the first, I shift on the couch. Rodger gives me another threatening stare.

“That bitch,” he mutters, implying Vale.

“It’s only the changing of the guards,” I explain, trying to keep my voice steady. The vehicles rotate as one shift ends and another begins. Only, the first vehicle remains, while the second one parks.

My heart hammers in my chest. Sweat trickles down my back. Adara is asleep at my breast, but I don’t want to move, giving the impression she’s still nursing beneath the baby blanket covering my breast and her.

“Fuck,” Rodger mutters, leaning his back against the cellar door with a heavy thud. He tips back his head before turning it toward me with evil in his eyes. “I’m not finished with you. You’ll find me that money.”

He steps toward the back door where the blinds are shut and tugs it open. Instantly, he falls to the floor with the crack of a fist against his nose. Blood pours from his face as he curls into himself.

With Sebastian over him.

A beast unleashed.

Chapter 35

[Sebastian]

There was nothing in my head but white noise and the crunch of bone on bone as my fist pummeled his face. Red blurred my vision. I only had one intention.

But a familiar feminine cry poked at my concentration.

My name was being called from some place distant. A warning. A plea

It didn’t matter. This man would pay for threatening my girl. He’d pay for trapping her in the house and scaring her. He’d never get near her again. If he touched her, he was a dead man.

It’d all been my fault. I wasn’t here to protect her.

My fists pummel. My heart hammers. Then I’m being tugged backward while I resist. With my arms pinned, my feet flail forward, kicking air. Next, I kick backward, leading with the heel of my hard-souled boots.

“Dammit, Sebastian.” A deep, gruff masculine voice grits out.

“Sebastian.” The female voice again, soaked in tears and fear.

I lift my head, though not eager to release my glare from the man on the floor, face dripping, mouth cursing.

“Sebastian, look at me.” The feminine command sharpens in my ear. The plea is desperate.

I blink. I blink again.

The room comes into focus. I’m still held in a vise grip, keeping my arms pinned behind me and my body upright and off the man at my feet.

My gaze connects with a vision. “Enya?”

Tears stream down her face. “Sebastian, it’s me. Look at only me.”

I meet her eyes but quickly look away. I’ve done what I’ve done for her, but I can’t face whatever that look in her eyes means.

Averting my gaze, I see Vale standing a few feet behind Enya, holding a bundle.

“Adara,” I whisper.

I glance back at the man on the floor, the one prone, knees tucked to his chest and covering his face with big hands while blood seeps between his fingers. I struggle again against the hold someone has on me.

I want back at that man. Fuck him. Fuck him for making my girls cry.