“Put two more rounds through the walls. Close enough to scare the shit out of them, but not hit them,” I say.
“Doing so now.”
A bullet round slams through the outer wall of the office wall and Meghan screams again. Fuck, I don’t want her to ever have this kind of fear. I can’t stand it. It’s fucking murdering my fucking brain to hear her screams.
The second bullet tearing through the wall gives me a damn good idea of who’s alive inside of the room with her, though.
Alexei’s bitch voice shouts, “Goddammit! Pick up your fucking radios!”
Shouting into the room, I say, “They’re all dead, motherfucker!”
“I’ll kill you all and then this fucking whore!” Alexei yells back at me before he starts shooting through the walls at us.
Good thing I’m not close enough for him to hit me.
“He’s only got a gun and he just shot six times!” Meghan screams out to me.
“Holy fuck!” Johnathan bellows with a rough, tumbling laugh. “Chick’s got some fucking balls on her!”
“Shut your whore mouth!” I hear Alexei scream followed by a heavy slap of skin.
“Fuck you, tiny dick!” Meghan yells back.
Alexei roars in anger.
Racing around the corner, I flip my M4 around in my hands. Instead of holding it like a rifle, I wield the motherfucker like a baseball bat.
Taking a monstrous swing, I cover the ground between Alexei and me with an almost inhuman speed. I don’t know why time has slowed down so much for me, but I thank every fucking devil I can name that it does as the stock of the rifle connects with the Alexei’s hand.
His eyes go wide as fuck as his pistol goes flying across the room.
Alexei’s a big fucking man like me, but I can see in his fucking eyes he isn’t a warrior. He’s pumped some weights to give himself a look, he didn’t spend those hours in the gym to build muscles to hurt. He spent them to look good in fucking suits. He may be good with a pistol, and has probably been in a couple scrapes before, but he isn’t a brawler like me.
Squaring up on him, I raise my hands as I give him a smile. It’s probably not what he was expecting when I bum-rushed his ass, but I’m going to give him a chance to fight me.
He’ll fucking die here one way or the other, but I don’t want it to be quick and painless.
“I’ll fucking kill you all,” he snarls at me.
“Doubt it,” Andrew says from behind my back.
And then I hear Johnathan laughing. “I want a piece of him, if anything’s left after you’re done.”
Slowly circling to Alexei’s right, I wait to see if he’s going to try to make a play for Meghan or me.
“I’m taking my wife home with me. We’re also going to be waking your dear old dad up, too.” I grin.
Eyes wide, Alexei seems momentarily stunned by my words. And I don’t think it’s me taking Meghan home that has him looking like he’s seen a ghost. We’ve got a lot of questions for his father. Questions that will be pulled out of him at our warehouse, where we can take all the time in the world.
“Possibly pregnant wife,” Meghan slurs.
Glancing over at her, I see that her lip is busted and a trickle of blood is running down it.
My eyes swing between Alexei and her.
My brain is processing too much shit. Her hurting and exposed. Him fucking living and breathing.
She’s strapped down on a fucking medical table, her legs up in fucking stirrups. And I have no clue who the fuck the dead man slumped on top of her is, the way his face is mangled from the exit wound of the bullet makes it impossible to tell.
“You hit her. You fucking touched her,” are the only words I can get out before I finally allow the red haze of lustful rage filter my sight.
There’s a loud roaring sound that reverberates around the room as I charge at Alexei, and from the wide-eyed look the bastard gives me, I get the feeling it’s me who’s doing the roaring.
I thought it was the fucking blood rushing in my veins, pounding in my ears, but it’s not. It’s me, and I’m finally allowing myself to be the fucking Hellhound I’ve always been.
There’s nothing fancy in the way I’m going to hurt him. I just want to get my hands on him and beat his body to a bloody fucking pulp. I don’t need weapons or instruments of torture. Those wouldn’t work for what I want to do.
I need to get my fucking hands on his fucking body and cause pain.
I throw a huge fucking haymaker at his jaw, but he’s smart enough to see how much I’m telegraphing that punch. While he’s ducking low to steer clear of my overswing, I change the direction of my punch to land the arm around his shoulder.