Shielded Wrongs (Bellandi Crime Syndicate 4)

As soon as I released her hands from the belt and carefully pulled free, she darted off to the bathroom at the side of my office in a hurry, leaving me chuckling in her wake as I followed her to clean up.

Pausing just in front of the bathroom door, I turned to look at the space behind my desk with a grimace. Sure enough, Rebel lay there with her eyes rolled up to look at me. Her furry brow pinched in condemnation. It was probably safe to guess the dog thought I was a pervert.

“At least I don’t lick my own ass,” I said, raising an eyebrow at her. She barked once to let me know just what she thought about me violating her human.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Sadie yelled through the open bathroom door. Barking out a sharp laugh and shaking my head, I went into the bathroom and found her incredulous face gaping at me.

Sadie slept like the dead on a normal night. But she slept particularly hard after she’d guzzled wine with dinner to take the edge off the sting to her ass from her spanking at Indulgence earlier in the day. She’d glared at me throughout dinner, ignoring the fact that I’d drawn her a bath to soothe the sensitive skin.

The wine was convenient, her soft snores filling the room as I crept into her bedroom and grabbed her cellphone off the nightstand where she had it charging. Rebel glared at me accusingly as I snuck back out of the room, bringing her phone to my office. Removing the black and blush case she kept it in, I opened up the back of the phone itself. Slipping the tiny device into one of the only gaps in the components, I used a tiny screwdriver to close it back up again.

Grabbing my own phone, I brought up the app that would connect to her tracker, breathing a sigh of relief when it pinged the location immediately.

Guilt consumed me as I snuck back into her room and replaced her phone, but given her determination to sneak away, I’d do whatever I had to do to keep her safe.

Even if it meant protecting her from herself.

17

Sadie

My fists crashed into the bag in a rapid succession, all notions of counting and rhythm gone from my head. Music pulsed in my headphones as Beth said goodbye to the last of our members for the day. Enzo lurked against the wall, his gaze knowing as he watched me work myself to exhaustion.

All damn day, my ass hurt anytime I tried to sit down. All damn day, I suffered the physical memory of his possession.

The reminder of his claim on every part of my body.

I hated him for doing it. I hated myself for liking it and wanting to do it all over again.

My arms ached with my exhaustion, the muscles protesting with every punch as I threw it with the force of my entire body behind it.

People usually said goodbye to me as they left, but the buds plugged into my ears so I could avoid the world communicated one thing very clearly.

Stay. The fuck. Away.

Even Mike hadn't dared to bother me once I started working out, pushing myself past the limits I normally kept to. I'd seen too many athletes overwork themselves and get injured over the years, and had watched them be devastated by the turn of events that changed their future just because of the simple decision to take on too much.

The body could only take so much abuse before it snapped, and I risked pushing mine past the limit.

The only people who had dared to bother me through the day had been the ones who called me on the phone and had no clue about the storm waging just below the surface. I needed to punch someone, but since that wasn’t an option, I settled for the bag. Enzo’s real estate agent had been kind on the phone, to the point much in a way that reminded me of Ash at Indulgence. Like Enzo had put a flashing neon sign over my head that David could see from other parts of Chicago. His outrage on my behalf, when I explained that—despite the connection to the Bellandis—when all was said and done I was his client, had solidified the fact that I liked him.

I hated it.

From the corner of my eye, I watched a man sneak inside as Beth moved to lock the doors. She shook her head at him frantically, and I didn't need to hear her to know what she said. Not today.

She was right. I was in no fucking mood for his shit this day of all days.

As I glared over at Patrick, since he seemed to think of accosting me when I was due to be coming or going from the gym alone, Enzo's eyes narrowed on the way my ex looked at me. I knew his too intelligent hazel eyes missed nothing, tracking the eye contact as his fists clenched at his sides.

Tearing the earbuds out as Patrick moved around Beth like the idiot he was, my chest heaved with lack of breath from my workout. Sweat dripped down the sides of my face and my spine as I tucked the cords into my bra strap and bounced on my feet once more and jabbed the bag.

"You look like you've been at it for a while. Why don't we go get you some food?" Patrick asked, standing too close for comfort as I worked. Enzo had already shoved off the wall, moving

towards us like stealth on legs. Patrick was too wrapped up in watching my abs clench with every punch to notice the menace coming for him.

Rebel perked her head up from the spot she’d claimed by the window, a low growl rumbling in her throat as she gave Patrick a second warning he was too stupid to catch. "Fairly certain I'd starve before I shared food with you. I'm pretty sure I know where your mouth has been," I said with a brutally bitchy smile. The memory of exactly where Enzo's mouth had been the day before flooded me, bringing a flush to my cheeks. There wasn't much that embarrassed me when it came to sex, but I thought that was probably one of those things where the dirty wrongness of it just called for blushing.

"Come on, Sade," Patrick murmured. "I fucked up, okay?" he asked, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I won't make the same mistake again. Besides, it's not like you haven't been with anyone since me. So that should make us even."