Blood & Bones: Whip (Blood Fury MC 11) - Page 113

Was this the thirteenth kid they were looking for?

His chest tightened painfully and his stomach dropped.

It better not be.

It fucking better not be.

Scar had her pinned against the wall, her dress pulled up to her waist. Blood clung to the corner of her swollen bottom lip. Her left eye was twice the size it should be and starting to bloom into an ugly bruise. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

“What the fuck you d-doin’?” Whip screamed as he rushed over to them, yanking on the prospect’s arm, trying to pull him off.

“She was fightin’ me,” the prospect growled, flinging off Whip’s hand but not backing off from what he was doing to the girl.

“Fightin’ you from t-takin’ her or fightin’ to k-keep you from fuckin’ her?”

“Don’t matter.”

“Scar! That ain’t the p-plan. You were s-s-“ god-fuckin’-damnit, “supposed to take her to the van. Get the f-fuck off of her, now! Trip will f-fuckin’ kill you for this.”

Scar turned his attention back to the girl. “Teachin’ this bitch a lesson. She clawed my fuckin’ face.”

“Don’t give a fuck if she kneed you in the g-goddamn nuts. You ain’t t-teachin’ her a damn lesson. She ain’t one of the women, she’s a fuckin’ k-kid, you sick f-fuck.”

“Fuck off, you pussy. She ain’t no kid. I’m treatin’ her like they would. Old enough to bleed, old enough to breed. I wasn’t the first, just gonna be the last.”

Just gonna be the last?

“G-get off her right f-fuckin’ now,” he ordered, trying to pull the man free.

“Fuck off.”

“You dis-disobeyin’ my order?”

Scar finally twisted his head enough so Whip could see his sneer. “You d-don’t got the f-fuckin’ b-balls b-big enough to g-give orders. Or to stop me, you st-st-stutterin’ bitch.”

Scar was bigger than him. Not by much but the man was a soulless killer. He wouldn’t think twice about taking Whip out.

But Whip didn’t care. The girl’s eyes were on him, and he read the pain and pleading in them.

That made him lose his fucking shit. Totally fucking lose it. Enough to give him the strength to pull Scar off the girl and knock the prospect off his feet. The larger man stumbled back but caught himself.

Whip turned and met him head on with his feet spread apart for balance and prepared for a fight.

He never got the satisfaction of stealing his father’s last breath from him, but he would get it by taking Scar’s.

The prospect yanked up his jeans and, with a snarl, rushed him, his face full of fury, his hands clenched into fists. Whip braced for the impact.

It was like getting hit by a charging bull. Whip fell backwards, all the air rushing from his lungs as he hit the floor. Before he could take a breath, Scar was on him, his sledgehammer fists hitting Whip’s face one after the other.

He didn’t fight it, he let the man hit him. That allowed Scar to concentrate on striking him while Whip concentrated on what he needed to do… Pull his knife from the sheath where he had tucked it before pulling the prospect off the girl.

Whip’s head was ringing, his jaw on fire, his vision getting dark around the edges and he swore stars were circling his head. But as soon as his fingers touched the hilt of his knife, he curled them tightly around it and pulled it free.

As Scar cocked his arm back for another powerful punch, Whip punched him first. Right in the throat with the blade.

The prospect’s eyes widened and his raised fist dropped. His mouth opened but only a trickle of blood escaped. With all his weight behind it, Whip shoved him and Scar fell to the side, clawing at the embedded knife.

As soon as the prospect yanked it free, blood spurted from the hole in his neck like a fountain. Whip quickly twisted away from the ex-con since he didn’t want that fucker’s blood on him. He had enough of his own running from his mouth and nose.

He rolled enough to get to his knees. Once he did, he glanced over and was surprised the girl was still there.

She had slid to the floor and onto her ass, her knees pulled to her chest, her eyes squeezed shut and her hands covering her ears, taking him back for a second to his own nightmare.

Her dress had been pulled back into place but next to her on the ground was her shredded underwear.

Goddamn bastard.

He always had a feeling Scar wouldn’t make it through his prospect period. Only Whip had no fucking clue how it would end.

Or that he would be the one to end it.

Rook would be pissed it wasn’t him that took the bastard out.

But none of that shit mattered right now. They had to get clear of the cabin before it shot into orbit, taking them along with it.

Tags: Jeanne St. James Blood Fury MC Romance
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