Bad Wolf (Wild Men 4)

A glint of metal catches my eye, and I swear viciously. Don’t mess around with knives, that’s my motto. Knives and guns. Bad things are bound to happen.

I make a grab for him, snag his sleeve and haul him back before he touches her. He swipes the small blade wide, and I twist my hand in the fabric and jerk him back again. The blade passes a mere inch from my face, and I duck, letting him go.

Stepping away before he takes a stab at me, I grab Sydney by the arm and drag her away.

She doesn’t appreciate it much, it seems. “Let me go, Jarett.”

“You’re so fucking welcome,” I hiss as the guy keeps advancing on us.

On me, dammit.

“Nobody asked you to come rescue me.”

“You sure about that?”

“What do you mean?”

But my attention is on the guy.

“Hey, man, relax.” What’s his name? Ben? Bart? The crowd parts to let us through. Nobody wants to find themselves at the point of a knife. I lift my hands to the sides. “Just let her go, okay? No need for this.”

“Get out of my way, bitch.” He’s still coming at us, knife held out, pointing at me. Anger burns in his eyes. “That woman should stop asking questions. She has to learn her lesson.”

I couldn’t agree more, but not on my watch. “Let her go. She meant nothing by it. I’ll talk to her.”

Another swipe of the knife, and I stumble back, dragging Sydney with me—only she jerks her hand free, and I turn to find her being hauled away by another guy whose face is totally unfamiliar.

“What the hell?” I mutter, starting to turn after her.

The moment of distraction costs me. Someone gasps, and that’s when the burn on my back registers.

The fuck. I twist away, years of fighting alerting me to the fact I’m about to get gutted like a pig, and bring up my arm to stop another hit.

Which is already coming. His wrist catches on my forearm, and then I let my other fist fly and punch him in the stomach.

His breath goes out in a groan, and he doubles over, knife dangling from his fingers. I kick at it, send it skidding on the floor, and more gasps sound all around.

Yeah, good show, huh?

I chance a glance over my shoulder, but Sydney and the guy who grabbed her are nowhere to be seen.

Fucking awesome.

“Jarett!” A hand lands on my arm, and I jerk, too tense, adrenaline making my blood pump faster, my heart racing.

Then the voice clicks, and some of the tension leaves me. “Gigi.”

She tugs on my arm. Her blue eyes are huge in her heart-shaped face. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“Go where?” I spare a glance at the guy who’s now down on his knees, cradling his hand and moaning, making me distantly wonder if I broke his fingers and God, I fucking hope so.

“Away from this awful place,” she says, her voice shaking, and I nod, because it makes sense, and fuck, nothing else right now does.

I turn, grab her hand and start once more toward the exit,

this time determined to reach it. I’m getting her out of here, taking her someplace safe, because I’m holding Gigi’s hand, and strangely it feels as if I’m holding everything I need in the world.

“Where’s your friend?” I ask as we exit the club and walk down the alley.