Be My Hero (Forbidden Men 3)

"Pic—" The shriek was cut short before something clanged to the floor in the kitchen and the sounds of struggling followed.

"Eva." I bolted in that direction and skidded to the opening.

The sight before me was what nightmares were made of. Some dead bastard—because I was going to kill him—wearing a fucking three-piece suit was struggling with her and fighting for possession of a chopping knife as he pinned her against the refrigerator. Tears streaked down her face, where one side was bruised and swelling from her forehead down to her cheek. The neckline of her shirt was torn and claw marks had been r

aked across her neck.

Launching myself forward, I grabbed the old fucker's wrist and wrenched it, satisfied when I heard a snap and he cried out. As the blade dropped from his broken hand, I hauled him off Eva and spun him away, shoving him into the cabinets and making the back of his head crack against wood.

While he was still dazed from that blow, I landed another into his face and then one into his gut, only to realize he'd undone his belt and the top button of his pants.

"Oh, fucker. You are dead."

After another punch, his blood flew, but hands and arms wrapped around me and yanked me back. Mason and Eva's voices buzzed in my ears. I resisted, but when a sobbing Eva wormed her way between me and the guy I was trying to kill, plastering herself to my front, it was impossible to fight around her without hurting her.

Mason backed me against the far wall, but I could still see the bastard as he shook his head, then cupped his face and wiped blood from his nose. I recognized him. The rich douche from the shop who'd come in with a flat tire on his Bentley. For some reason, that pissed me off even more. Made me think he'd targeted Eva specifically.

So I tried to surge forward to get back at him, but Eva was desperate to keep me away.

"Please," she begged. "No, Pick, no. You can't. You have no idea what he's capable of. He could destroy you. Please." She buried her face in my neck, her tears wetting my skin.

Shock made me suck in a breath. I couldn't believe she actually knew this creep. "Who the fuck is he?"

"Her father," Reese answered me from the kitchen doorway where she stood pale-faced and frozen, gaping at her uncle from a pile of spilled shoe boxes littering the floor around her feet and the garment bag she clutched to her chest.

Chapter 24

PICK

At the sound of his niece's voice, the Bentley prick spun toward Reese.

Her gaze dipped to his open belt. "Uncle Shaw?" With a sob, she dropped the garment bag and covered her mouth with both hands as she backed up a step.

I looked down at Eva just as she glanced up at me. The loss in her eyes explained everything, all the sorrow, shame, and regret. Her expression told me exactly who'd been brutalizing her for years.

"Oh, fuck," I whispered.

Her eyes widened. "Pick." She placed her sweet fingers on my cheeks, keeping my focus on her and no one else. "Please, don't."

I vibrated from my rage. I wanted to rip apart the monster who'd terrorized my Tinker Bell.

But fuck. Her own father? I fisted my hands and squeezed my eyes closed, trying to obey her pleas. It seemed vital to her that I not pound him into nothing, but God, I wanted to so bad. I even had to jiggle my knee to alleviate some of the aggression thrumming through me.

"Reese, you saw nothing," the dick was saying, his voice making me twitch, craving to charge him. "I could destroy you, got that? If you say anything to anyone, I'll destroy you and your little prostitute boyfriend over there."

Reese gasped and went sheet-white while Mason flinched against me. Eva kept staring at me, begging with her gaze, asking me to stay calm. I pressed my forehead to hers and attempted to focus on nothing but her.

But her fucker of a father had to point at me next. "And you. You'll pay for putting your dirty, greased-stained, orphaned hands on me."

I probably should've been shocked he knew so much about me. But I was more eager to beat him to a pulp. "Bring it," I said. I would love to—

"No," Eva moaned. She clutched me tighter and pressed her cheek to my chest.

A growl worked up my throat. Damn it. Why didn't she want me to hurt him for her?

Somehow barely respecting her wishes, I kept staring at her father without losing it. Not sure how I accomplished that, but I impressed myself with my own ability to tether in my emotions, even though I could still hear my kids down the hall, wailing for us.

"Get the fuck out of my house," I snarled.