Page 6 of To Hunt A Wolf
He sidles closer, and I back away, both of us doing this creepy dance until my back hits the club wall. When I can’t go any farther, I hold my breath to keep from smelling him. Beer. Old cigarettes. And body odor that could peel walls.
Crigger really owes me for this.
“You ain’t been here before, have you?” Dirk asks.
“Nope.”
I shove the word out while trying not to let the stench in.
“Well, then, let me give you a proper Inferno welcome.”
He leans in, and my knee slams hard into his groin.
“Argh.” He doubles over.
I wrench away, mostly to avoid actual physical contact with the smelly parts of him, and bring my fist down on his back, sending him to the ground at my feet.
He sputters and groans, completely focused on his throbbing balls.
That makes one of us.
“What the fuck,” he spits when he finds use of his voice.
I stand over him, a little disappointed he was so easy to take down.
“You were really going to force yourself on me, weren’t you?”
When he looks up at me, I use my heel to shove him back down again. My eyes catch on the dumpster in the corner.
“Trash like you deserves to be taken out,” I tell him. “Unfortunately for you, it’s not going to be that simple. Come on.” I nudge him. “On your feet, Dirk.”
His eyes widen, and he peers up at me, hands still cupped around the goods. “How do you know my name?”
A bit of indignation—and maybe worry—creeps into his pained voice.
“Because unlike you, I do my homework on a mark before trying to drag them off and trying to assault them.”
His eyes narrow, and I can’t help but goad him. Any asshole who hurts women deserves a lot worse than a kick in the balls.
“I know several things about you, Dirk Fletcher of seven-forty-one Wichita Road, member of the Hellions biker club since age sixteen.” At my words, he backs away, on all fours now. I let him. He’s not going anywhere. “In fact,” I add, “I know something you don’t.”
He glares up at me. “Yeah, and what’s that?”
“There’s a bounty on your head, Dirk. A pretty penny, too, which makes me wonder what in the hell you did to piss Crigger off so badly.”
His expression twists. Anger. Righteous disbelief.
He realizes what I am; why I’m here.
Except judging from the look in his eye, he thinks I’m incapable of doing it.
“Fuck Crigger, and fuck you, girl. You won’t take me in. And you’re going to regret ever trying.”
He thinks I don’t see the shadow on my left, but I do.
A blur of movement. A silent attack.
Dirk’s friends are fast, but I’m faster.
