Page 90 of Caged Hunger

Another shot of pain filled his gut.

There was no time.

He needed to protect the man he loved.

Basher shoved Cameron down to the ground and out of harm’s way.

He needed to get to Romeo and get that gun. He needed to do it now before he passed out or died. Once Cameron was safe, then his body could give up and die. But before that could happen, he needed to be Cameron’s protector.

The world around him went silent. He pushed to his feet and stumbled toward Romeo.

Another flash of light came from the gun in front of him as he continued to step forward.

He didn’t feel pain this time.

All he felt was an inherent need to get to the man with the gun and kill him before he hurt the smiling unicorn who gave his life meaning.

If there was ever something so important that gave his life meaning, it was this—this very moment—stumbling toward the man who threatened to take it all away, who threatened to hurt the sweetest man alive.

No. No fucking way was he letting any of this happen.

Another flash of light.

He blinked twice, fighting against the darkness that threatened to swallow him whole.

No. Only a few more steps.

Romeo's expression suddenly shifted.

The smug certainty was gone, replaced by confusion and then panic.

He pulled the trigger again.

Nothing.

A second time.

Nothing.

With every failed attempt, the color seemed to drain from Romeo’s face.

Was he out of bullets?

Basher didn’t know. He didn’t care.

All he cared about was wrapping his hands around that son of a bitch’s throat and squeezing the life from him.

Sound returned to the world just as Basher lunged at the man holding the gun.

“You’re fuckin’ dead,” Basher heard himself say.

The two of them fell to the floor as Basher began pounding his fists into the terrified man’s face.

He could hear Cameron screaming somewhere behind him. But in that moment, the only two people who existed were Basher and the man he was about to kill.

Red liquid danced around him, splashing against his face and quickly covering his calloused knuckles.

“You’ll never get to touch him,” Basher growled. “Never.”