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“Stop it, you little bitch!” he seethes, backing away from me. I can’t see much of his face, but I can tell it’s not the man in the truck. The thought doesn’t settle me.
With one last kick to the groin, I run like hell.
“Somebody help me!” I scream, running back down the trail like a fire’s on my ass.
Once I make it to one of the neighborhood streets, I flag down the first car I see.
Of course, it’s the black Ford.
Damn.
I don’t care. I wave my arms frantically, yelling for the man inside to stop. I look over my shoulder to see my attacker running down the trail towards me. Panic creeps in. If the driver doesn’t open the door, I’m screwed. I’m already so tired; there’s no way I can outrun him.
Just when I’m about to run around the truck, the window rolls down. A gorgeous man with a dirty blonde beard and hair leans over and asks, “You in some kind of trouble, darlin’?” His voice is a rich baritone with a Southern accent. His hazel eyes search mine before looking past me to the man chasing me.
“I need help,” I say frantically, looking back over my shoulder again. The man is almost on me. “He attacked me—”
When I turn back to the window, Dirty Blonde isn’t in the front seat anymore. I spin back around to the trail, and he’s already standing there, facing my attacker. When he sees Dirty Blonde’s six-foot-something body standing in front of me, he comes to an abrupt halt.
Then, Dirty Blonde pulls a gun from the waistband of his jeans and points it at him. The man holds his hands up in surrender.
“H-hey, man—” is all he can get out before Dirty Blonde pulls the trigger.
I cover my ears and close my eyes as he begins pelting my attacker’s body with bullets. The gunshots don’t seem to end, and scared tears burn behind my eyelids. I’m overcome with memories of my life with Ezra, the life I so desperately wanted to leave behind.
He empties the entire magazine into the man’s body. When the gunshots finally stop, it’s completely silent.
I slowly open my eyes and look at him, my savior.
CHAPTERTHREE
LEE
I standover the dead man’s corpse, the pungent scent of gunpowder lingering in the air. She gasps from behind me when she catches sight of him. I turn around, sticking my gun back into the waistband of my pants.
“Umm…” she starts, her voice quivering. Her entire body is shaking, and for some reason, I just want to hold her in my arms and tell her everything will be okay.
But I can’t do that. Not right now, anyway.
“Thank you. For… that,” she says, pointing tiredly to the dead man on the ground. I smirk and run a hand over my beard. Her eyes track my movement, traveling over the tattoos covering my hands and arms, and I can’t help but imagine her small body riding my tongue while my fingers dig into her soft hips. My dick gets hard at the thought of her soaking my beard with her cum.
I chuckle, then sweep my arm out in a flourish before bowing. “Pleasure’s all mine, darlin’.”
She shivers again and rubs her arms. “A bullet to the heart would have sufficed,” she tries to joke, but her voice betrays her intention.
I don’t say anything, just stare at this beautiful creature.
I see why Ezra’s so obsessed with her.She’s even more stunning in person.
She’s got the most beautiful brown skin I’ve ever seen, golden and gleaming despite the weather, and her curly hair is the same rich, dark brown as her eyes. Her skimpy tank top and shorts cling to her curves and breasts like a second skin. She’s a fucking goddess, and I half consider taking her for myself.
She looks at me curiously. Of course. I’m eye-fucking her, and I haven’t even introduced myself yet.
“Name’s Leland Holloway, but no one calls me that unless they want my foot up their ass,” I say seriously. “Call me Lee.”
I hold out my hand for her to shake, and she takes it tentatively. It’s so small compared to my own, and while my palms are covered in calluses and scars, hers are soft and smooth. Unblemished. Perfect.
She nods. “Lee.”
