Page 29 of Altered By Lead (Undercover Sinners 2)
Crap.
The one person in this whole bar we should probably stay away from is standing right in front of me.
The guy turns back and then reaches out to grab me by the arm.
"Your friends think it's okay to dance with, and then insult my lady? We'll see how they like it when I fuck you against the bathroom wall." The man shoves me forward, sending me stumbling into a swinging door. I open my mouth to scream, but he barrels through and it swings shut behind him. With the loud music and the chatter from the bar, it's doubtful anyone will be able to hear me anyway.
But I don't need them to hear me, do I?
When the big guy comes at me again, I wait for him to reach forward and then duck under his arms, going straight for his balls. Surprisingly, this was the very first move that both Hawke and Mace tried to drill into my head. Unfortunately, during practice they both wore cups, so I never quite got that satisfying feeling of slamming my elbow right in their prized packages.
Not like I do with this guy.
I hit him hard where he hurts, and the grunt I receive in return is more than satisfactory.
The man stumbles as I slip out from under him, going down to one knee for the briefest of seconds before he's back on his feet. He comes at me again, but this time, it's clear he's taking me just a bit more seriously.
"You fucking cunt," he grinds out, his voice hoarse and broken from the impact to his groin. He swings at me, and I duck out of the way. Another thing that the guys taught me: use my size as an advantage, not a hindrance. I'm smaller, lither, and more nimble than any massive muscle-head I might come up against.
On my way up from my crouch, I spin and swing a leg out at the biker's shin, loving this new feeling of freedom. I can defend myself. And not just with words or threats about who my father is.
The biker guy catches my foot and yanks me forward, knocking me back on the floor. I hit so hard that my head begins to spin and for a second there, I see stars.
"You're one, crafty bitch, I'll give you that," the man says, moving over to lock the bathroom door. "But a few tricks aren't going to be enough to get you out of this."
I struggle to get to my feet, feeling hot liquid drip down the side of my face. When I lift my fingers up to touch it, they come away crimson. Shit. The man turns and heads back my way as I use the wall for leverage and stand up. He's undoing his pants as he goes, and it's pretty damn clear what his motivation is here.
As I blink through the stars in my vision, I hear the music cut off outside the door followed by the sounds of a struggle. The biker dickhead looks as confused as I am, glancing over his shoulder as the door comes off its hinges, and West appears, panting hard and wiping sweat from his forehead.
Before anyone can speak, West raises a length of pipe (where the fuck did he get that?!) and swings it at Axel. But the man isn’t as dumb as he looks, ducking underneath the weapon and throwing his considerable bulk Weston’s way.
West sidesteps him, letting the man throw himself against the dirty tiles on the wall before he hooks an ankle across the biker’s shins and pulls, using the man’s off-balance stumble to his advantage. Axel crashes to the floor, but manages to roll out of the way of West’s pipe, shoving up to his feet and coming for me again.
Maybe he thinks he can use me as leverage to get Weston to drop the weapon? Who knows, but I’m ready when he barrels my way, throwing open one of the stall doors and hitting him in the face. The move doesn’t do much more than slow Axel down, but that’s all I need. I slide past him and put myself in line with Weston, two against one.
“You goddamn bitch,” Axel growls, reaching down and pulling a knife from his boot. West doesn’t give him a chance to use it, moving forward with lightning speed, and feinting left with the pipe. When Axel goes to move out of his way, West kicks out, sending him to the floor, and then slamming the end of the pipe into the man’s stomach, knocking the air out of him.
With a swift kick to the face, West leaves the dude groaning on the cracked tiles and snatches my sweaty hand with one of his.
“Would you believe this was hanging on the wall as a decoration?” he asks, and I almost smile as Axel moans and curses from behind us.
