Page 25 of The Vigilant

Wild Side.

And there was an invitation code on the back, so this wasn’t the run-of-the-mill cam site. My teeth locked together.What the fuck are you involved in, Mara?

“I hope they fucking kill you for this.”

I chuckled. “They can try.” I had uncommon skills for a twenty-one-year-old, but I wasn’t an idiot. If Mara was taken by the Wah Ching, that was a dangerous world to tackle on my own, but I wasn’t going to let Jack see my fear.

Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.

“Sutton!”a voice boomed down the alleyway.

My head snapped to the side, and I stilled, my show of strength faltering when I saw him.What the fuck was he doing here?

Tynan stalked down the alleyway like a leather-clad Zeus descending from Olympus, his big body seeming to crack the asphalt even more ruinously with each heavy step. His armshung at his sides, the leather cut of his jacket straining at the seams over his terrifying muscles.

I didn’t remember him looking this massive last night when he stood in the kitchen cooking up his salmon. But now…aman had no right to look as good as he did, all thunder and fury. And then I heard it—the rumble I’d thought was thunder; it was Tynan’s dark gray Harley parked at the end of the alley.

“Hey, man, you have to help me! Please. She’s fucking psychotic. Please,” Jack called out in a panic.No wonder the Wah Ching didn’t want him.

I snapped my eyes back to Tynan, landing on the unfiltered rage in his eyes.He was furious, and I shouldn’t care. This wasn’t his business—his fight. Yet I couldn’t stop myself from shaking.

I shouldn’t be trembling. I hadn’t trembled when Jack tried to assault me. Nor when I assaulted him. But now…every single thud of Tynan’s footfalls sent a quake through me so deep, I felt the shuddering all the way in my bones.

“Step away from him,” he ordered, and even without raising his weapon, I felt compelled to obey.

The wise warrior avoids battle?—

I’d add a modern clarification to the ancient wisdom—especially when you’ve brought a knife to a gunfight.

I dropped my arm and stepped away from Jack, who sagged against the wall in relief. I pretended to adjust my jacket and quickly slipped the business card into an inside pocket.

“What the…” Jack choked and then glared at me. “What the fuck did you do to me?”

I stared flatly at him, taking in the full sight of his hand staked to the wall and the word “PIG”carved into his chest, and then slowly smiled. Lisbeth Salander would approve.

“The next time you give out one of those cards, I’ll tattoo the word on your fucking forehead,” I warned low just before Tynan reached me, the size of him completely filling every square inch of my gaze.

Maybe I was a psycho…or maybe that was just what they called women who fought back.

Chapter Six

Sutton

Tynan didn’t say a word—didn’t make a sound as he scanned over me. Forget the man stabbed to the wall, Tynan’s very first concern was me. Through the heavy blanket of rage covering him, I felt the glimmer of softness in his gaze, the way it assessed every inch of me, from my undone hair to the blood on my chest. The tenderness there was as subtle and threatening as a knife against my throat, and I caught my breath before I could stop myself from being affected.

I wasn’t affected. Couldn’t be. The only person I could trust to look out for me was myself.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I said low and watched him sheath that tenderness in the blink of an eye.

His jaw clenched so hard I swore it was going to break as he turned his attention to the rest of the scene with a kind of calm that felt explosive.He processed the knife protruding from Jack’s hand, his crooked nose and the blood staining his lower face, and then his damaged shirt, hanging open to show how I’d cut his chest.

A low growl finally worked its way from his chest.

“Please, man. Help me,” Jack begged, looking at the knife in his hand that he was now fully capable—but too chickenshit—to remove himself.

Tynan took two steps over to him, yanked his shirt wide to see what I’d done, and then whipped his head back around to me.

“Wait for me on my bike,” he ordered with such a low rumble it was almost a purr.

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