Page 114 of Striker
Blood trickled from Vinny’s nose. His beady dark eyes were laced with fury. “Who the hell are you?”
Atlas dug the mouth of his rifle deep into Vinny’s thigh, eliciting a pathetic whine. “The woman you tried to buy. She’s with me. Small world, huh?” He pulled the trigger.
Vinny’s scream sent animals scurrying through the nearby trees. Birds squawked, irritated at the intrusion.
Vinny’s breath hissed through clenched teeth. Spittle dripped down his chin. Atlas brought the gun to his other leg.
“No!” Vinny bellowed.
He pulled the trigger. The sharp crack of metal hitting bone was much more audible this time. Blood gushed from the wound and Vinny’s gaze flickered.
“Ooo, that’s a painful one,” Viper said behind him.
Atlas reached down to pat Vinny on the cheek. “Stay with me, dude. We’re not done yet.” He jerked his head toward his friend. “Help me get him up.”
Viper moved in without question. The man couldn’t stand, but Viper held him upright while Atlas looped the rope around his neck.
Grabbing the guy’s arms, he locked gazes with him. “I don’t know how many women you raped, Vinny. But consider this payment for each one. Shitty thing for you is you’re still going to hell.”
He threw Vinny over the balcony.
A sharp snap echoed, and his body convulsed. Atlas didn’t stay to watch the rest. He gave Viper a brisk nod of thanks and reentered the house.
It was time to take Molly home.
Molly’s body rocked and shook as the boat bounced over the waves. When Atlas had come to get her from the trees, he’d said very little. He’d picked her up, asked if she was okay or hurt anywhere, then carried her down to the dock, where Rogue had pulled up with a speedboat.
She’d lost track of how long they’d been on the boat. Several times already she’d glanced behind her. The next time she looked, Atlas’s hold on her tightened.
“There’s no one left to come after you, honey.”
She sat curled on his lap with a solar blanket tucked around her. She still couldn’t stop shivering. Maybe it was the cold that’d tapped into her bones, or maybe it was shock.
“They’re . . . dead?”
He met her stare. “Yeah, Mol. They’re dead.”
She swallowed. God, this man had killed so many men—for her. She nodded distractedly, rattled by that realization but also thrilled by it.
Good lord she had issues.
Rogue shouted something, but she didn’t catch it over the loud motor. Atlas dipped his lips to her ear. “Almost there.”
A few minutes later, the harbor came into view. It was a new sight to her—she’d been unconscious throughout the trip to the island.
Rogue cut the motor and her ears rang in the sudden quiet. Atlas stood and carried her onto the dock and then to an SUV. He tucked her in the back seat and clicked her seatbelt in place. Unease skittered through her. He moved so methodically and seemed distant.
He got in beside her and shut the door while the guys piled in. Havoc sat on the other side of her.
They traveled in silence, but Atlas’s palm covered hers and brought their joined hands to his lap.
“Um, we taking her to the hospital?” Rogue asked from the driver’s seat, glancing in the rearview mirror.
Atlas studied her face. “I think we should. You’re badly hurt.”
She shook her head. Ther was nothing worse than bright lights, questions, and lack of sleep. “No, I’m okay. I just need a hot bath and rest.”
He sighed but told Rogue to take them to the hotel. Twenty minutes later, he carried her into their suite. She’d have insisted she could walk, but given the cuts on her bare feet, she didn’t want to get an infection.
