Execution Style (Code 11-KPD SWAT 4)

Which he did, seconds later, bouncing off hard and coming back at me with twice the speed as his charge.

I raised my fist and swung.

My fist connected with his jaw with a snapping crack.

The crowd in the first eight rows all gasped as Faris went down hard.

Out fucking cold.

What surprised me the most was Mercy.

The moment Faris went down, Mercy started jumping in excitement, screaming my name and cheering me on.

After a full minute of him not moving, I exited the ring to the crowd’s stunned silence, bypassing the stage manager and his wide, speechless eyes.

That was when all hell broke loose.

Men started pouring out of the tunnel that the ‘contestants’ stayed when they weren’t on camera.

Men, every single one of them bigger than me, pounded down the walkway.

I turned my eyes to the commotion that I felt going on on the opposite side, and smiled wide when each and every man, sans Silas and Dixie, hopped over the fence and ran up to flank me.

Right about the time my brothers got to either side of me, ten of Faris’ former teammates stopped directly in front of us.

My adrenaline was pouring through my veins, and my hands twitched to fight.

I’d really had a long fucking day, and an even longer month and a half. I needed to let off some serious steam, and this was the exact way I would do it.

“Let’s see what you got, boys,” I said, gesturing them on with my fingers.

The front one smile, with his gold teeth and hot yellow, skin-tight bikini bottoms. Or whatever the fuck they were called.

He had on red boots, too.

“Are you supposed to be Hulk Hogan’s love child or something?” I asked, inciting the man further.

“No,” he hissed.

“Well then, what are you supposed to be?” I quipped.

He struck, throwing his weight at me like an ox.

He’d have hit me hard, too, had Trance not lifted his foot up when he got within reach and stopped him with a heel to the chest.

Hogan Junior fell to the ground, gasping in pain.

Then the rest were on us.Chapter 15The only ‘B’ word you should ever call a woman is beautiful. Why? Because bitches love to be called beautiful.

-T-shirt

Miller

“Aren’t the point of the chairs to hit people with?” Foster asked a Las Vegas Police officer.

Tony rolled his eyes to me. “Please, for the love of all that’s holy, shut your brother up before I have to arrest him.”

Foster grinned and saluted him silently.

Tony and Foster were good friends.

We’d been stationed here when we were in the Navy, and Tony DeRoy had been a regular at the bar we used to hang out at during our free time.

He also used to work with Trance before Trance moved to Louisiana.

“Why was this even taking place?” Tony asked me.

I pointed at Faris, who had blood dried on his face. “That fucker right there.”

“Goddammit. How many times do we have to pull him off of one of you?” Tony shook his head in aggravation. “You need to get a restraining order.”

I shrugged. “No big deal.”

“Alright, well they can resume the show,” Tony directed at the stage manager. “Just don’t pull that shit anymore. The people watching this show, witnessing it, don’t understand that this wasn’t staged. You’re lucky they didn’t kill your people. Thank you for calling.”

With that, Tony knocked me on the shoulder and started to exit the building.

The entertainment that was happening in the ring, in the form of two women Jello wrestling, didn’t interest me in the least as I turned around and finally went back to my section.

I hopped back over the barrier that led to our seats, and barely had my feet on the ground when Mercy hit me.

She scaled my body, wrapping her arms around my neck and her feet around my waist.

“Holy shit, that was hot,” she gasped, giving me a kiss on the mouth. “I could totally see myself surviving a zombie apocalypse with you. You’d totally be better than Daryl.”

I opened my lips in surprise and she took advantage of the moment, sweeping her tongue inside.

I kissed her back: hot, hard and nasty. My fingers threaded through her hair, and my arm wrapped around her waist, holding her to me.

All of the emotions I’d been holding back, by sheer force of will, broke through the wall I’d erected out of self-preservation.

I moaned into her mouth, relishing the way she felt surrounding me.

It was only when the hoots and hollers of the crowd penetrated my excited mind that I realized we were on the jumbo-screen.

“Shit,” I said against her lips. “We’re drawing the attention of the crowd.”

She nipped my lip. “Does that bother you?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“Good, because right now I’d do just about anything to stay in your arms.”

“Anything?” I asked, leaning back slightly.

She nodded. “Anything.”

Those words were what I’d been waiting to hear.***Mercy

Miller and I walked hand in hand from dinner, following behind our crowd.

It was an amazing thing to watch, these huge men. They walked so effortlessly and seamlessly.

Like they were a well-oiled machine.

They were also intimidating, because not once had we slowed our walk from the restaurant to our hotel. The entire time people moved out of our way, even if they had to turn sideways and back against buildings to do it.

Miller tightened his hand on mine, bringing my attention back to him.

“What?” I asked.

He looked at the two in front of us, Silas and Dixie, and then slowed minutely to put more distance in front of us before saying anything.

“I need to know something,” he said quietly.

I blinked, butterflies starting to swirl around in my tummy.

“What?” I asked.

He swallowed, making his Adam’s apple bob, before he said, “Do you want to take our relationship further?”

I paused, my stride faltering, as I took in what he said.

I knew that if I said no, he’d respect my wishes and never bring it back up again.

However, if I said yes, all of my dreams could come true.

I’d literally dreamt of him, and our first sexual encounter, on a daily basis since about twenty minutes after it’d happened.