Page 111 of Hexed
So I do, hyperaware of him following me the entire time.
When we get to the bulk of the guns, Johnston walks up behind me, pulls out his own gun, and gestures toward the crate. “Open it,” he demands.
My palms are clammy, and the urge to wipe them down the front of my outfit is strong, but I resist because I don’t want to show any weakness.
“You need a lady to do your heavy lifting, John?” I ask. “What would the others think?”
He flicks his cigarette to the ground and moves quickly, pressing in close to my body, violence mingling with the stale scent of tobacco and whiskey. It smells like broken dreams and a man who isn’t actually man enough to deal with his issues.
He reaches down and brushes his hand against my ass, his sticky breath ghosting across the side of my neck, and I go on full alert.
“Give me some space,” I say, “or I’ll call up your ol’ lady and let her know you don’t know how to behave.”
He grips my ass harder and grunts. “She knows her place.”
A click of a gun sounds, and my body stiffens, thinking it’s him, but thenJohnstongoes ramrod straight, and a voice says, “I’d love to show you yours.”
Enzo.
“Take your hands off her. Now.”
Johnston does immediately, his hands in the air, palms facing outward, and his gun dangling from his thumb. I spin around and see Enzo holding his 9mm to the back of Johnston’s head, a fiery expression on his face.
What the hell is he doing here?
I’m equal parts annoyed to see him and relieved I’m not alone.
Johnston cuts me an accusing glare before looking at him. “Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m the guy who’s about to kill you if you touch her again.” Enzo’s voice is low and lethal, and it’s inappropriate timing, but heat flares between my legs. “In fact, don’t evenlookat her.”
Johnston chuckles but keeps his hands raised. “Buddy, I’ve got four of my guys right around the corner, and they’re not gonna like seeing this. I don’t think you know who you’re fucking with right now.”
Enzo’s face is all dark lines and menace, and he’s dangerous in a way I’ve never seen before. All traces of the fun and easygoingfriendI’ve spent time with are gone, and in his place is E: the man the rumors are all about.
I’m not sure which version of him I’m more attracted to.
He grins, and a shiver races up my spine.
“Ask me if I give a fuck who you are.” He leans in. “Go on, ask me.”
Johnston stiffens his jaw, and Enzo brings back his gun and pistol-whips him in the head. The biker flies to the ground, his gun skittering across the gravel and into the grass a few feet away.
My eyes widen becausewhat the hell is he doing? But before I can even blink, Enzo’s shoe is on Johnston’s hand, and he’s grinding down with his body weight until Johnston yells out in pain.
There’s a thrill working its way through me, pumping adrenaline through my body like a drug at the violent display. One that’s happening because of me. Even better:forme.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Enzo says. “Does that hurt, sweetheart?”
“Fuck…you.” Johnston grunts and spits out a blood clot.
Enzo laughs. “Nah, fuckyou.”
He releases Johnston’s hand from under his foot and then crouches, running the gun down the side of his face. “I want to make something crystal-clear: killing you right now would cause problems forher, and that’s the only reason I’m being generous and letting you live.” He pushes the gun into Johnston’s temple again. “But if I find out you tucked tail like a bitch and ran to anyone about what happened here, I’ll hunt you down like the dog you are, and I will strip every piece of skin from your body before I kill you. I’ll make it last all night long, professing my love for your death. That’s a promise.”
The way he’s speaking, it’s soft and low, like sex and candy mixed with a tinge of violence, and I wonder if this is why they call him Lover Boy. Because he whispers sweet nothings into their ears while he hurts them.
“You don’t know who you’re fucking with,” Johnston spits, his words muffled.
