Annihilation Road by Christine Feehan

such a fool, Seychelle. You’re not going to make two dollars with this group, not unless you whore yourself out.”
    “You have such a pleasant personality. I’d like you to leave.”
    Joseph Arnold stepped forward, right into her personal space, forcing her back against the wall of the building. “You think you’re so high and mighty, always superior. I’m not putting up with it. You’ll work for me or you’re going to be very sorry. No one in the industry will touch you. You’ll spend your life with going-nowhere bands.”
    “Better than spending my life with a grubby little man who tries to force himself on women. First you try to ask me out a million times, and now you’re suddenly a music scout. It’s a crock of shit. Get away from me.”
    “You little cunt. You’re nothing without me.”
    “You’re drunk and high, just like you were the last time you made your pathetic little pitch. Get away from me now.”
    He grabbed her around the throat and started to shake her, squeezing hard with his big fingers. Savage was already on the move, exploding out of the shadows with blurring speed. “Get the fuck off her,” he snapped, grabbing the scout by his hair and wrenching him back away from Seychelle.
    Joseph hung on grimly to her, roaring with rage that someone dared interfere. He pulled Seychelle with him over backward so the two nearly fell to the asphalt. At the last moment, to try to save himself, Joseph let go of her and threw out his arms to prevent his face from hitting the hard surface.
    The moment Joseph let go of Seychelle, Savage was on him, punching his ribs, his chin, back to his ribs and then pummeling his face. The nose squelched with blood, was sickening when it broke, and then Savage smashed a fist to his face again.
    Seychelle caught his arm when Savage pulled back for another punch. He whirled around, nearly knocking her over.
    “He’s had enough, Savage,” she said. “He’s the type to call the cops and then sue you.”
    “I don’t think so.” Savage took pictures of her neck and then crouched down beside Joseph. “You call the cops, I’ll make certain you go to jail for attempted murder. If you go near her again, this is nothing compared to what I’ll do to you, you piece of shit.”
    He straightened slowly and turned to Seychelle. She was attempting to light another cigarette with shaky hands. He pulled it out of her hand, crumpled it up and tossed it right onto Joseph’s bloody face, and then, catching her by thearm, walked her to the far entrance, away from the groaning, writhing man.
    Savage pushed her up against the wall, back into the shadows where he was most comfortable. “You’re not smoking anymore. I don’t like it.”
    Seychelle raised her eyebrow and edged back a little from him. “I don’t think that’s your business, Savage. I pretty much do whatever I want.”
    “You can kiss that good-bye.”
    She gave him that faint smile, a flash of the dimple that might someday really manage to drive him insane. He seemed to be able to read everyone but her. That mysterious little smile intrigued him and yet made him want to do all sorts of sinful things to her that he would get off on, but she might not like so much—at first.
    “Nice to know what you’re really like. You do realize I might not want to smoke but I’m addicted, so I can’t stop.”
    “That’s pure bullshit. Everyone is addicted to something, Seychelle. You’re strong. If you want to quit, then you will. I say you will. I don’t want to see you with these again.” He snapped his fingers. “Give me the pack.”
    She stood there for a few long moments, studying the hard line of his jaw. His expressionless mask. Those blue eyes of hers drifted over his face, and for a few moments his heart stuttered as if she were touching him. He couldn’t let her mesmerize him.
    “Baby, you don’t hand them over, I’ll just take them.”
    She shook her head, her chin going up defiantly. Savage was all