Razor's Edge (Underworld Kings)

“I’m coming, Adler,” I said into the darkness.

The stairs were behind me and I bounded down them two at a time. My heart pounded like a gong, the expanding ripple from the impact reverberated throughout my entire body. The sound of the revving motors faded with their distance, pops from the mufflers as they decelerated meant they’ve already reached the corner.

“Adler!” I squeaked. I was winded and too distraught to speak. He’d be dead before I got there.

Cold linoleum hit my feet, but our house had heated floors. The light was blinding and my chest heaved as I tried to shield my eyes and catch my breath.

I felt strange and I wondered if a seizure was coming on.

Familiar green eyes connected with mine, sending my panic into overdrive. I knew this face and knew that it brought me comfort, yet something was so amiss that terror griped my heart and squeezed.

“Adler?” I asked, panting.

“Adler? No idea who that is, sweetheart. You’re in my kitchen.”

I backed up against the wall as he took determined strides in my direction. He cornered me to the wall looking both dangerous and alluring, clad in tight jeans, black leather boots and a white tank top. His blond hair was slicked back and his beard was trim. Classic tattoos covered every inch of exposed skin. Although he intimidated me, I knew those green eyes by heart.

Eyes that raked my frame and immediately lit up. I looked down to see what he saw. Boy shorts, sheer white t-shirt clinging to my breasts, nipples erect and challenging the cloth. I licked my lips and placed my hands against the wall behind me as he came so close, I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Don’t tell me you’re Cal’s girl,” he said. He reached his hand toward my waist, his rough, but warm palm traveled from my hip up to the bottom swell of my breast. It lingered there hot and heavy for an instant, before his thumb brushed over my aching nipple. I couldn’t help the response, how my panties soaked, or how my body quivered under his touch. I’m terrified of this man, but my body betrayed me.

“All this for fucking Cal? Jesus Christ. Pretty baby, you need a real man,” he said. His thumb continued to circle my raised nipple sending unwanted surges of electricity straight to my clit. My lips parted as he grabbed my chin forcefully with one hand while his other slid into my panties.

I opened my mouth to object, but instead, I fell forward into his arms and despite my will to push him away, I seized into him.

Chapter 22

CALVIN

I woke to a silent house and although my bed was warm and comfortable, something didn’t sit right. The house was too quiet and unease slipped through my bloodstream like poison, grabbing me out of my dream state and hurling me to the foot of the guest room door.

It’s open.

The covers on the bed were turned down, but there’s no Ellison.

“Fox!” I screamed.

I pound my fist on his door. He opened in boxers, messy hair, baseball bat clutched in his fist.

“She’s gone.” That's all I said to him as I flew down the stairs. Grabbing the banister, I jumped the last five and landed in the kitchen like a panther.

Ellison was in his arms and I saw red. He’s my blood, but she’s all that matters to me. I jumped with exactitude, the precision of a killer already runs in my veins.

“Give her to me,” I commanded. My jaw is clenched, the rage boiled in me like venom. I’ll kill him. I don’t fucking care, it would be my pleasure to end his life.

A shadow of doubt crossed my father’s face, a blind spot of vulnerability I’d never seen him express before. It quickly extinguished into a scowl, a much more fitting expression for a face I’ve grown to hate with every abuse he’s handed to me.

Surprisingly, he passed her without question. I crushed her unconscious form to my chest and turned to hand her to Fox, who stood behind me panting like he’d just come from running. His reaction was from nervous energy because he doesn’t trust that Tyler Montgomery and I won’t kill one another.

“Do I call an ambulance?”

“Take her upstairs, use the nose inhaler, wake her slowly.”

I stalked toward my father, bent on cutting his jugular. The man never failed to taint that which is precious to me, sacred, and untouchable. If he’d hurt the love of my life, he would pay for it in blood.

He threw the first punch, but was ready and ducked. I grabbed him by the neck and dug my thumbs into his trachea. He cuffed me on the side of the head and my ears rang with the impact. I could feel the warm trickle of blood snake its way down my head.