Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113944 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
“Does your mommy know you’re out of bed?”
He stilled, and his two friends let out low whistles.
“That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one day, honey,” said Mack, chewing on gum.
The third boy, Rowan, nodded with a smirk that he appeared to wear permanently. “Maybe we should find a way to keep that mouth busy.” He leered. “Yeah, I think you should suck my dick.”
“You’ll need to get one first,” she said drily.
Brandt laughed, not at all bothered by the “traitor” look that his friend sent him. To these idiots, this was one big game.
Gwen cocked her head, glaring at Brandt. “You’re not at all sorry for what you did, are you?”
He shrugged, snorting. “She’s a shifter—why should I be sorry? They’re abominations. But you . . . you’re human, so why would you care what happens to her?”
“She’s a person, just like you and me.”
“She’s nothing like us,” he snarled. “She’s a goddamn animal.”
“Funny . . . the only one I saw behaving like an animal that night was you. You drugged her and then beat her with a pole while she was weak and unable to defend herself. You think that makes you a big, brave guy? It doesn’t. You don’t have that thing”—she clicked her fingers a few times—“a soul.”
His eyes flared. “I’d be careful if I were you, sweetheart. You don’t have your shotgun with you this time.”
She gave them each a dismissive look. “I don’t need a shotgun to deal with three little boys.” The knuckle stun gun she discreetly pulled out of her pocket would do nicely.
Brandt licked his teeth. “Little, huh? Maybe I should show you just how big I really am.” He grinned. There wasn’t just heat in his gaze, there was something else—something ugly and twisted. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, babe?” He advanced on her, mouth curled. “Why don’t you spread those legs for me? I think you’d enjoy it.”
“No, I wouldn’t.” She yanked the bat out of his grip and slammed it into his bruised jaw so hard she was surprised she didn’t hear his teeth rattle. At the same time, she switched on the stun gun and hit him in the solar plexus just long enough to send him dropping to his knees, dazed and shaking.
Rowan and Mack stared down at him, eyes wide. She braced herself for them to come at her, but shock seemed to have immobilized them.
Snapping out of his daze, Brandt stumbled to his feet. “You fucking bitch.” He idiotically took an aggressive step toward her, but then froze at the cock of a shotgun that came from somewhere behind her.
Mack and Rowan swallowed nervously—probably because they had a good idea who was holding that shotgun. The person in question wouldn’t hesitate to shoot a trespasser. Hell, he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot anyone.
“Brandt, we should go,” said Mack, a tremor in his voice. “I’ll back you all the way on this, but I ain’t getting shot or Tased for you.”
Licking his lips, Brandt took a step back.
“That was smart of you, freezing like that,” Gwen told him. “Because I gotta say, the idea of Donnie blowing your brains out fills me with a morbid kind of joy. I don’t like to deny myself joy. Life’s too short for that.” She flicked a look at his crotch. “But I guess you’re used to things being short.”
Brandt’s eyes blazed with indignation. “My father will—”
“I don’t care. You wield his name like it’s a sword, thinking it will protect you. No matter what you do, I’m standing by my original statement. In light of that, I suggest you stop wasting both of our time, run along home, and never come back. Ah, I can see your bruised ego’s struggling with that, but coming back here would be a serious error on your part.
“Now, personally, I think it’s far past time that you boys left. I advise you to back up slowly. If you run, you’ll trigger Donnie’s hunting instincts, and he’ll start firing like he’s facing an invading army. That would suck. Not so much for me, but definitely for you.”
Mack and Rowan did as she advised, but Brandt stood firm as he glowered at her, fists clenched, clearly at war with himself.
“You need to fight that ego, Brandt. If you want to live, that is. I’d be thoroughly glad to hear that you don’t want to live.”
He took a deep breath and finally backed away. Casting looks at her over their shoulders, the three boys jogged away and disappeared into the trees.
She knew that wasn’t the end of it. The Moores never backed down. But then, neither did Gwen.
Balancing the bat on her shoulder, she turned to the large three-story house and climbed up the stone steps and onto the wraparound porch. The wooden boards creaked as a tall figure stepped out of the shadows, dressed in camo gear and holding a shotgun, looking like he’d just walked right out of a war zone.