Page 171 of Seeking Vengeance

“Don’t call me that.” I clench my jaw. “It’s not my name.”

“Sorry. I forgot Layla told me about the label change. But tell me,Matthew, have you informed her of your moniker yet? Has the man who wants to rescue her like a fucking hero told her what he’s best known for?”

I clench my teeth harder, refusing to react.

“You didn’t tell her that, either, did you?” His eyes narrow. “You’re delusional if you think she could love someone with your reputation.”

“Reputations are usually built on gossip and exaggeration. You and Hunter should know that better than most.”

“I think we’re both man enough to admit the worst of us is kept secret from the world because those who witness it die at the scene.”

I fall quiet. Unresponsive.

He’s right.

“I’m told you were once a monster, Matthew Langston,” he drawls the name with censure. “And yet you expect me to what? Let you leave with my sister?”

“Iamleaving with her. The only decision left to make is if it will be done with force.”

“You’re threatening me now?” He steps closer, less than a foot between us when he clenches a fist.

“I’m preparing you.”

I don’t attempt to block his punch. I take the blow to the gut as punishment and hunch with the impact, Layla’s muted screams surpass the thunderous pulse in my ears.

He strikes again and again. My chin. My cheek. Each impact hitting without defense.

“That’s enough,” I warn.

Another blow hits my jaw. My temple. The pain rings through my skull.

“I said, that’s enough.” I charge, ramming my shoulder into his ribs, sending him backward in a grappling bear hug. Impatience consumes me as I hold him close and shove a hand beneath his jacket, snatching for his holster to unclasp his weapon.

The soothing familiarity of the gun is in my hand in seconds. The urge to pull the trigger calls to me.

“I deserve a few hits for the secrets I’ve kept from her.” I place the barrel against his sternum. “But now you’re done.”

Rage flashes across his face. “We’re done when I say we are.”

“Give the order,” Hunter growls beside their car. “One word and he’s dead.”

“If he’s dead, she’s dead, too,” Bishop calls from behind me. “I don’t have a fondness for the bitch like he does.”

I smile, tasting blood. But it’s Layla’s silence that unsettles me.

There are no shouts.

No screams.

Bishop can threaten on my behalf all he likes, but if he’s got her at gunpoint there’s going to be trouble.

I glance over my shoulder, finding him behind the wheel, his upper body half out the window, while Layla’s frantic eyes stare at me from the back of the Lincoln, her hands gripping the front seats.

“Interesting that you chose to threaten instead of negotiate or beg.” Torian reclaims my attention. “I would’ve thought you’d be smarter than that.”

“You wouldn’t respect me if I did. And I wouldn’t be a strong enough man for Layla either. I’d go to war for her. What I won’t do is wither on my knees.”

“So you choose death?”

---