Page 149 of Bound By Her

Bryson’s hand itched for a gun, a knife—something—but they had nothing.

They needed to find Eric. Fast.

Moving further, his eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. His pulse spiked as two figures came into focus at the end of the hall.

Then—aclick.

A gun.

Bryson froze, lifting his hands slowly. His voice was steady, but his heart wasn’t.

“We heard a commotion?”

The light flickered on, and fear slammed into Bryson’s gut.

Eric.

Blood poured from Eric’s side, his hand barely holding pressure against the wound. A gun pressed tight against Crest’s temple, but the massive bodyguard didn’t even flinch—his eyes locked on Eric, like a predator waiting for its moment.

“Holy shit.” Kaydon moved, quick and controlled, relieving Eric of the gun and pressing it to Crest’s forehead.

Eric staggered back, hitting the wall hard, his face ghostly pale.

“Seth, get pressure on that!” Bryson said, pointing to Eric’s wound.

His attention already shifting—the cries ahead sending bolts of ice through him.

The double doors loomed at the end of the hall, warm light bleeding from the cracks beneath them.

Bryson’s survival instincts screamed at him to stop—to think—but his body ignored them.

His hand closed around the handle.

Beyond the doors, the red glow of the fireplace barely cut through the darkness. But the dim light did little to hide the monster within.

The moment Bryson stepped inside, his eyes locked on her.

Adria lay naked, struggling, her body trapped beneath Jonathan, who loomed over her, cock in hand.

The room reeked of sweat and metal. A heavy hand pressed onto his shoulder—Eric.

Blood poured freely from Eric’s side, drenching his shirt, but even half-dead, the force of him radiated danger. His presence filled the room, his body rigid, his gaze a promise of death.

Jonathan, either blind or too arrogant to care, pressed closer to Adria.

Eric’s grip on Bryson tightened.

“Leave.”

Eric’s tone was pained. Like the very notion of talking, and not murdering, was killing him.

It was then that Bryson noticed the broken glass and the blood.

A lot of blood.

Jonathan didn’t move.

Instead, he smirked, casually, wiping a streak of Adria’s blood from his fingers. “I assure you, I’m almost done.”

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