Page 29 of Perfectly Leashed
Oh. Fuck.
Darcy ran around to the hood of the car, trying to pull Gilmore’s attention away from the sharp points slowly emerging from beneath Luca’s top lip.
Why wasn’t Luca fighting back? Darcy understood not throwing punches, but Luca should have some spark of defiance. Resist!
Jesus. Darcy had just gone full-blown rebel.
And it felt good. Terrifying, but exhilarating.
“There’s a restaurant literally right behind you!” Darcy gestured toward the lizard perched above the building that had haunted his childhood dreams. “Take him in there so he can at least cool off!”
Darcy was breathing heavy, hair plastered to his scalp, but he wasn’t going to stop arguing with the asshole. Luca’s life was on the line. Something told him that, if Gilmore took him away, it would be the last time he’d see his wolf.
A symphony of growling engines rumbled just out of sight, a steady crescendo that continued to build. Darcy had been trying so hard to prevent Luca’s arrest, frantically grasping at anything he could think of, that he’d forgotten Luca had sent off a text. His family was responding.
There was no mistaking that throaty rumble. Lucas’s brotherhood was coming to defend one of their own.
Leading the charge was Killer Eyes—he needed to learn the guy’s name—riding the most badass motorcycle Darcy had ever seen.
It wasn’t just transportation but a declaration of war wrapped in chrome and fur.
Also, it was just a little too on the nose. A wolf with a bike crafted of wolves? Dude was telling everyone what he was without saying a word.
Darcy glanced over at Luca, ready to cry from sheer exhaustion.
“Luca!” He shot around the car, arms out as his dog whisperer collapsed. Gilmore let him fall, Luca’s head cracking on the ground with a sickening thwack.
“You bastard!” Darcy swung, but a hand clamped down on his wrist, halting him. “Let me go! He’s a grimy sleaze ball who thinks he runs this goddamn town!”
Never in his life had Darcy wanted to punch someone so badly. He wanted to claw that smirk off the deputy’s face. Rage coiled in the center of his chest, squeezing tighter the longer it festered.
“Go to your lobo. He needs you.”
Darcy looked back, then up.
Killer Eyes had his wrist, but it was in a gentle hold. The guy was staring directly at Gilmore, and if looks could kill, the deputy’s soul should’ve been ripped right out of him.
With a trembling breath, Darcy nodded. Santiago was lifting Luca, carrying him into the restaurant. Darcy needed to be with his wolf.
“You’re interfering with an arrest.” Deputy Gilmore looked as if he wanted to handcuff Killer Eyes instead. Darcy prayed the deputy tried.
Turning swiftly, he dashed through the restaurant entrance, horrified by the explosion of lizard-themed décor. It looked like his grandma’s front lawn with its overgrown collection of lawn ornaments.
Darcy was convinced she owned every plastic flamingo ever created.
Rushing past the fever dream main room, he made his way to the back of the restaurant.
“Dot, take control of the front,” instructed a large, muscular guy in an apron.
The woman with gray hair, who Darcy guessed was a waitress, nodded. “On it, Lizard.”
His name was actually Lizard? That explained the tacky décor.
Darcy glanced to his right. Santiago was carefully placing Luca on the pantry floor. Blood stained his shoulder, and a deep cut marred his brow from the fall.
Please let Killer Eyes eat Gilmore.
“Why aren’t you taking Luca to the hospital?” Darcy edged closer, determined to stay. He’d fought too hard to protect Luca. No one would separate him from his wolf.
