Rock Reclaimed (Rock Revenge Trilogy 2)

His gaze snapped back up to mine as he twisted my nipple. “Why would you say that? I could have been a nice guy. Don’t have to be now.”

The backhand stunned me. I was t

oo close to the wall, so my skull smacked into the rough surface and the asshole’s dead eyes went hazy. I tried to shake it off, but everything went blurry.

The other voice got louder—and suddenly, sun blinded me as Rattlesnake disappeared. I curled my knees up against me as I turtled. No other word for it. I shook my head against the black dots and crazy lights. My sunglasses had come off when the shithead hit me.

I tried to get to my knees. To get up.

I couldn’t stay here. He’d be back. This was my only chance.

Voices blurred and overlapped. I dragged myself up to one of the benches, conscious of the fact that my bikini top was hanging from my neck, my boobs swinging free.

Get to your bag, Zoe.

I shook it off enough to see a guy with long hair pounding his fists into Rattlesnake’s ribs. The long-haired one was scrappy. It seemed insane that it could really be him.

Because I’d wanted him here? Because he’d invaded my brain? Or was this truly reality?

He took two punches to every one he dished out to my attacker, but they were well placed, where Rattlesnake’s were sloppy.

Could be because of the blood pouring down into Rattlesnake’s eyes.

Rattlesnake’s friend was face-down on the ground trying to get his knees under him.

My rescuer was bare-chested and slippery. He widened his stance and the sole of his boot knocked him off balance as he turned his ankle.

God, it really was him. I knew that boot. That I could focus on that one detail and nothing else made no sense. The ocean soundtrack currently lodged in my head faded back, and I could finally hear the words blasting between the two men.

“You don’t,” punch, “fucking hit,” one more punch, then a well-placed stomp on Rattlesnake’s shin that made him shriek in an unholy voice and drop to the concrete, “a woman!” Ian spit out blood next to him.

There was no doubt it was Ian Kagan. The husky British accent and wild changeable green eyes were too welded into my brain. His teeth and nose were stained red and blood dripped down his chest.

I’d been too busy staring in disbelief to notice that Rattlesnake’s friend had finally gotten up.

“Ian!”

His gaze swung to me before he was jerked back with something white in the other attacker’s hands. A T-shirt? It was wrapped around Ian’s throat. The other guy was double Ian’s weight.

Rattlesnake was screaming viciously for Theory to kill Ian.

What the hell kind of name was Theory?

And he was trying his damnedest to get it done. That was the important part.

I lunged to my feet and Ian’s eyes bulged out even farther. Shit, I’d forgotten. The rage on his face made me stumble back a step and hide my half nakedness.

He did this weird twist maneuver, which surprised the crap out of Theory, and ended up winding the material around the other guy’s hands instead.

Ian crouched low to get out of his way and kicked out at Theory’s knee. Ian rolled away, swiping at his face with the back of his hand. “Are you all right?”

I nodded and dove for my bag. My coverup was all netting and not much help to my current situation. With shaking fingers, I tried to get the bikini top twisted around. Maybe I could tie the string.

“Here.”

I peered up at Ian. He handed me the shirt that had nearly strangled him.

“I know it’s not much but better than the alternative, love.” His voice was soft as he wrapped my fingers around the T-shirt. His shoulders sagged as sirens blared. Another crowd of people were forming, thanks to Rattlesnake’s continued shrieks. “Can we get out of here before the boys in blue arrive?”