Page 73 of Manhattan Tormentor

Sofia pokes my arm for attention. I really wish she had a brain inside that obedient head of hers. Then we wouldn’t be about to be led to the fucking socialite slaughter.

She starts going on about outfits. I tune out because Sage is looking at me. So is his sister, and she looks like she wants to rip my head off. He glances away first, says something to Thatcher, then he rises, heading for the door.

“We need to talk about this, Sofia. But not right now.” I ignore whatever she says because I’m already up off my seat and making my way through the crowd of people.

The snapping sister stops me before I reach the door. I look down at the hand she has locked around my forearm. “Stay away from him, you’re trouble. I won’t have a problem letting your little gang know what you’ve been doing, even if it pisses off my brother.” She warns, trying to look taller than her five foot and change.

I smirk, unaffected. “What is it they call you, puppy? Run along yapping puppy.”

“Bunny,” she hisses, “and don’t think you can call me it, it’s for family only, not jackasses who use my brother.”

A sneer twitches the edge of my mouth. I turn around to walk away. Her sweet girl voice stops me again. “I mean it, Maverick. I will destroy your life if you hurt my brother. Test it out if you think I’m bluffing, you’ll learn I don’t lie.”

Walking back to her, I watch how she pushes her chin high, waiting with her large blue eyes to see what I’ll do.

What does she expect? That I’ll go atomic bomb? Silly girl. She’s a pretty thing, for a snapping turtle.

Thatcher stands in warning.

I grin, aiming a wink at Raene, which only makes the kid madder.

I could tell her threats mean jackshit to me. I’ve had worse from my own blood. She could post it all over social media that I do dick now and no one would believe it unless I back it up.

My word is law with those that want to be around me. I could do weird shit in front of a TV crew and Bates would defend me to the president himself that it was some weird CGI shit.

“Threats from babies don’t bother me.”

I have to jog to catch Sage up. He turns with a scowl. It’s too late to backtrack because I crowd into his space with my whole body. Sniffing apples like a crack addict let out of rehab.

I’ve officially become a creepy stalker, and the thought makes me cringe. Doesn’t change my mind though. I crowd him until his back hits the wall and I’m in his space.

“We have nothing to say, Finn.”

“Really?”

I watch his eyes drop to my mouth. The look tugs at the inside of my gut. Fires start and I bump up against him. “Yeah, really. Now you wanna move back before I have to make you?”

“Ohh, tough guy.” I’m kind of hot at the thought of him taking me down.

I’m an idiot, I know that.

Can’t stay away when I know I should.

This isn’t right.

I want him. Fuck me, but I do.

He doesn’t answer, only stares at me in his quiet, unruffled way.

“You’re not leaving because of me, are you?” I want him to say yes, so I can taste the lust on his tongue. I want to ravage it out of his mouth, make it mine for a second. But he doesn’t reply in the way I want him to. That’s a pity.

“Not likely. I’m getting something from my car.”

“What’s up with the chick all over you like an STD.”

A warmth spreads through my core. I know what it is.Possessiveness. Doesn’t the perky hair fiddler know my mark is all over Fierro?

“Chelsea is none of your business.”

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