Scars (The Triad 1)
Page 34
TRISTAN
She had smeared blood all over her beautiful fucking face like war paint. It really made those blue eyes pop. She had a wide smile across her face, and she was holding two semi-automatic rifles that were definitely not ours, cocked against her hips. Had she already used all the ammo in the guns I had given her? Twenty fucking rounds? How many men had she just killed outside those doors in the five minutes we had left her alone? My dick twitched at the mental image that rendered.
The guy I had been grappling with got in a good punch, and the pain that shot across my jaw was enough to bring me back to the present. A lot of the workers had run off when we burst in, but the higher-ups that happened to be in here stayed around to try and protect their shit. We had gotten a few shots in before it turned into an outright brawl. Those baby blues of hers found me, and she smiled.