Page 5 of Falcon

But a freaking tattoo? My name? Right there as a claim? Doesn’t look like he did it today either. Damn. I don’t know if I should be impressed, creeped out, or turned on. Well, obviously I’m turned on. Ugh.

Swinging my head Thorsten’s way, I tell him and Livi, “You two can’t simply be bearing witness to the insanity of this madness.”

“Says the woman who just helped my brother make the body of a cartel member disappear, one who was there to kill you, and almost succeeded if it wasn’t for my brother,” Thorsten dryly states.

“What the fuck?” Livi growls.

My attention goes to the man in the shadows. “That should have stayed between us.”

Falcon drops his shirt and places his fingers on the Wisely Dicey patch.

I flip him off. “Bros before anything else. What a surprise. Not.”

Whirling around, I stride to the door and grab the handle. I don’t get to open it due to the inked, bandaged hand keeping it shut. His other hand slides over my belly, pulling me against his front as he makes us step back. He’s suddenly holding my phone and is showing me a message he sent to my brothers right after mine, when I told them I was at the Wisely Dicey clubhouse.

KENZ

This is Falcon Rhyland, Wisely Dicey’s enforcer. Your sister is my property.

I slowly reach out to take the phone from him. Falcon is their enforcer? Holy shit. Swallowing hard, I thumb through the handful of back and forth messages where Falcon explains the threat against the club. The final two messages are Falcon’s invitation for them to come to the clubhouse, and my twin brothers accepting along with a time tomorrow morning.

Sliding my phone into my pocket, I take a deep breath to regain some calmness. Well, enough to make it seem I’m calm on the outside ’cause pure hot fury is raging through my veins. Where the hell does he gather the nerve to do what he just did?

Taking away my choice, my fucking voice, my freedom? I don’t care if the man saved me from a bullet to the head or feel weirdly clit-touched he inked my name above his cock. All my life I’ve experienced the suffocation of boundaries and have been pulled under until I was old enough to stand on my own and freaking fought for my freedom. I built my own career, bought my own house, and live my own fucking life…until Falcon walked right in and took over.

CHAPTER FOUR

– FALCON –

I wrap my fingers around her wrist and open the door. Heading for my room, I only manage one step in the direction of the hallway when Livi blocks my path.

“You’re handling this all wrong, Falcon.” Her gaze goes over my shoulder where Kenz is. “Come on, dude. You’re not stupid, and she’s not as docile as she seems to be right now. I’m warning you, she’s gonna slice your throat while you’re sleeping with the shit you just pulled.”

My cock twitches inside my pants. I hope to fuck Livi’s right ’cause I’d like to see Kenz try. It’s for this reason I simply nod as a sign of respect to my president’s old lady before stomping right past her.

My brother kidnapped Livi when he found out she was an undercover agent. He wasn’t done with her, and after a few days they managed to get together. Clearly everything worked out, also because he managed to knock her up.

I don’t see the difference other than I might be forcing Kenz a bit to be with me. On the other hand, she’s the one who wanted me. So, it works both ways in my opinion. At the end of the hallway, I take a turn and open the door to the basement. The stairs are old and I slow my pace instead of rushing down as I turn on the lights.

“Are you going to lock me up in the fucking basement?” Kenz snaps when we come to a stop in front of the door leading to my room.

I shake my head in response. Pointing at the locks on the door she raises her eyebrow. I grit my teeth, hating to admit it, but I see no other way to explain when I point my finger against my chest.

Her eyes narrow and I’m surprised at the anger in her voice when she says, “You’re the one they kept locked in here? What the actual fuck. Who? Your brother? Brothers? Motherfucker, how twisted are you guys?”

Opening the door, I show her my room which instantly silences her.

“Okay, maybe not too bad to be locked in here,” she mutters as she takes it all in.

The king size bed you can bounce a nickel off, ’cause I always make the bed. A dinner table with four chairs, a huge TV mounted on the wall across from the bed, and a tiny full functional kitchen in the corner along with a fridge.

I point at a door at the far end, and she asks, “Bathroom?”

The corner of my mouth twitches as I give her a nod.

She sighs. “At least tell me there’s a bath in there, and not just a shower.”

I keep my arm raised and wave my fingers in a “go check for yourself” gesture. Walking past me, she opens the bathroom door and flips on the lights. She disappears into the bathroom and a moment later I hear the sound of water.

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