Courtland. “So what’s this about? Hasn’t big brother come home from the Zone yet? Are you lonesome?”
Courtland snatched her by the arm, lifting her off her feet with a feral growl. “I know what you did, you bitch, and I’m gonna make sure you die for it!”
White-hot pangs of pain shot up her arm, making her grit her teeth to keep from screaming. She grabbed Courtland by the collar and gave him a good hard shake, rattling the earring in his left lobe. “If you don’t put me down, I don’t care how much mouthwash I have to invest in afterward, I’ll eat your face off!” she seethed.
But Courtland shook back, only fiercer, and then dropped her, kicking her so sharply in the ribs she went flying across the floor.
Her head smacked against the radiator with a crack left echoing in her ears. Claire reached behind her, using the heating element for support to sit up, fighting a groan at the shooting spears of pain.
Her head pounded as the Dogs surrounded her, condemnation in their eyes. They knew something. Jesus Christ, they knew. “ Get out , Courtland,” she managed to say, fighting a wave of dizziness so violent, she thought she’d pass out. “I don’t know what kind of crazy you’re spewing, but you get the hell out of my library now!”
Courtland bent down to glare at her, putting his hands on his knees, his thick lips forming a sneer. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, you lying bitch. You killed Gannon—and I have a fucking witness!”
Everything stopped in that moment. The world stopped spinning. She stopped breathing.
The time to pay the piper has come, Claire Montgomery.
But then Irish was there, right behind Courtland, putting his gloved hand on Courtland’s shoulder and shoving him roughly out of the way. He gathered Claire up, wrapping his thick arm around her waist to support her. “Back off, Courtland, or I’ll drain you so dry you’ll turn to dust. Right here in front of all your little girlfriends.”
There was a stir in the crowd when Irish’s brother Liam, second in charge of the Fangs, pushed his way past the Dogs to stand beside him.
He affected a defensive stance as the Fangs flanked Courtland’s crew. “Now what’s the problem here, Courtland, and why are you knocking a woman around? Is fighting with the big boys too scary?” Liam taunted, to the tune of laughter from the Fangs.
Courtland’s lips flattened, his face full of rage. “Let her go, Irish. Give her to me. This is pack business.”
Irish rolled his eyes. “Tsk-tsk, Courtland. Didn’t we go through this last night? Harassing a woman is mutual business. Now, what’s going on?” he demanded, tucking her closer as her heart sped up and she fought the urge to collapse in his arms.
“She killed Gannon, and I have a witness. That makes this pack business, Blood Lover. Now hand her the fuck over!”
Irish set her behind him with a protective arm before approaching Courtland, his eyes narrowed, his expression made of granite. “Then your witness is a dumber fuck than you are.”
There was another ripple in the crowd of Dogs, the air in the room draining in tense increments.
Claire’s legs began to fail. She clung to consciousness, afraid of what Irish meant. Oh God. He couldn’t know. Could he? She pushed her way between the two men, searching Irish’s face, sending him subtle signals with her eyes to keep his mouth shut.
As she began to teeter, Courtland’s beady eyes went suspicious. “What the hell does that mean?”
Irish tilted his jaw, rolling his tongue along the inside of his cheek before he said, “Your witness is wrong. Claire didn’t kill Gannon. I did .”
To be continued…
(Cue evil soap opera music)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Dakota Cassidy is the nationally bestselling author of more than thirty books. She lives in the gorgeous state of Oregon with her real life hero and her dogs, and she loves hearing from readers!
Connect with me
Courtland snatched her by the arm, lifting her off her feet with a feral growl. “I know what you did, you bitch, and I’m gonna make sure you die for it!”
White-hot pangs of pain shot up her arm, making her grit her teeth to keep from screaming. She grabbed Courtland by the collar and gave him a good hard shake, rattling the earring in his left lobe. “If you don’t put me down, I don’t care how much mouthwash I have to invest in afterward, I’ll eat your face off!” she seethed.
But Courtland shook back, only fiercer, and then dropped her, kicking her so sharply in the ribs she went flying across the floor.
Her head smacked against the radiator with a crack left echoing in her ears. Claire reached behind her, using the heating element for support to sit up, fighting a groan at the shooting spears of pain.
Her head pounded as the Dogs surrounded her, condemnation in their eyes. They knew something. Jesus Christ, they knew. “ Get out , Courtland,” she managed to say, fighting a wave of dizziness so violent, she thought she’d pass out. “I don’t know what kind of crazy you’re spewing, but you get the hell out of my library now!”
Courtland bent down to glare at her, putting his hands on his knees, his thick lips forming a sneer. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, you lying bitch. You killed Gannon—and I have a fucking witness!”
Everything stopped in that moment. The world stopped spinning. She stopped breathing.
The time to pay the piper has come, Claire Montgomery.
But then Irish was there, right behind Courtland, putting his gloved hand on Courtland’s shoulder and shoving him roughly out of the way. He gathered Claire up, wrapping his thick arm around her waist to support her. “Back off, Courtland, or I’ll drain you so dry you’ll turn to dust. Right here in front of all your little girlfriends.”
There was a stir in the crowd when Irish’s brother Liam, second in charge of the Fangs, pushed his way past the Dogs to stand beside him.
He affected a defensive stance as the Fangs flanked Courtland’s crew. “Now what’s the problem here, Courtland, and why are you knocking a woman around? Is fighting with the big boys too scary?” Liam taunted, to the tune of laughter from the Fangs.
Courtland’s lips flattened, his face full of rage. “Let her go, Irish. Give her to me. This is pack business.”
Irish rolled his eyes. “Tsk-tsk, Courtland. Didn’t we go through this last night? Harassing a woman is mutual business. Now, what’s going on?” he demanded, tucking her closer as her heart sped up and she fought the urge to collapse in his arms.
“She killed Gannon, and I have a witness. That makes this pack business, Blood Lover. Now hand her the fuck over!”
Irish set her behind him with a protective arm before approaching Courtland, his eyes narrowed, his expression made of granite. “Then your witness is a dumber fuck than you are.”
There was another ripple in the crowd of Dogs, the air in the room draining in tense increments.
Claire’s legs began to fail. She clung to consciousness, afraid of what Irish meant. Oh God. He couldn’t know. Could he? She pushed her way between the two men, searching Irish’s face, sending him subtle signals with her eyes to keep his mouth shut.
As she began to teeter, Courtland’s beady eyes went suspicious. “What the hell does that mean?”
Irish tilted his jaw, rolling his tongue along the inside of his cheek before he said, “Your witness is wrong. Claire didn’t kill Gannon. I did .”
To be continued…
(Cue evil soap opera music)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Dakota Cassidy is the nationally bestselling author of more than thirty books. She lives in the gorgeous state of Oregon with her real life hero and her dogs, and she loves hearing from readers!
Connect with me
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