Page 46 of Ballistic

“I was mad. You know I hate rejection.”

“Well, get used to that.” Taking a step toward Nicoleta, I felt a tight grip of my arm that instantly tensed my muscles.

“I’m sorry, Dax. In spite of everything, this isn’t personal. I do miss you. I wasn’t lying about that.”

I frowned down at her, and wrenched my arm away. Commotion in my periphery drew my attention back toward the hallway, where I watched Nicoleta kick her feet as two men dragged her off.

Fucking cunt. I should’ve killed Tanya for ratting us out again. Instead, I pushed my way through the crowd on a warpath, after the son of a bitch holding Nicoleta by the neck. As they approached Aaron, the bouncer at the back door, I called out to him.

“Stop those fuckers!”

He shot up from his chair in time to catch the swing of the first man’s fist. The blast to his jaw knocked Aaron back against the wall, but he shook his head and charged again.

I upped my pace to a jog, wishing I had my gun.

“Dax, you came back!” Chante said, stepping from her room, and I pushed her back harder than intended.

As Aaron fought one of the thugs, I went after the second, who’d already exited the club with Nicoleta. Skirting their brawl, I pushed through the door and caught sight of him struggling with her.

Seemed she had some power with her knives, but didn’t stand much of a chance against the guy in a fistfight. One hard backhand cracked against her cheek and sent her flying to the ground.

Muscles tensed with fury, I barreled forward, as the asshole reached for his piece, and tackled him to the ground. Scrambling over him, I pinned him by the throat and hammered my fist into his face. Once. Twice. Blood sprayed up in my face as I hammered a hard third, the resounding crack telling me I’d broken his nose.

He reached for my throat, but couldn’t get a grip on me.

I throttled harder, the playback of watching him strike Nicoleta urging me to kill the piece of shit where he lay.

At a sharp pain needling my side, I looked down to see the hilt of a blade sticking out of me. Fuck.

A hard crack splintered across my jaw. The distraction cost me the next punch, too, and the asshole gained some footing over me, knocking me onto my side with a harsh blow to my ribs. I yanked the blade from my side, and as he leaped onto me, I jabbed it square into his ribcage.

With a yelp, he fell to the side, and I straddled him once more, driving another blow to his face. And another. The third knocked him out cold.

Blood seeped through my shirt as I pushed to my feet and stumbled across the gravel toward Nicoleta, who also lay out cold. Aaron jogged out of the building, his face bloodied, but beyond him, the second thug sat slumped against the wall.

“Help me get her into the car,” I called, sliding my arms under hers.

“You’re bleeding man. You all right?” Aaron took hold of her legs, and together, we hoisted Nicoleta up and carried her to my ‘Cuda.

“I’m fine. Just a scratch,” I lied, throwing back the passenger door, and the two of us slid her limp body onto the seat.

Ricky jogged out of the building, and Tanya stood just inside. The two of them taunted my kill switch, so I patted Aaron on the shoulder and rounded the vehicle, grinding my teeth, to keep from acting on the urge.

“Thanks, brother. I’ll see you around,” I said to him as I fell into the driver’s seat.

Ricky called after me, but I ignored him and tore out of the lot, flipping Tanya off as we passed her.

Holding the stinging pain of my stab wound, I drove one-handed, my attention alternating between the road and Nicoleta, who remained motionless beside me.

The tension in my muscles eased, when she finally rolled her head against the headrest and let out a quiet moan. Resting her palm against her cheek, where the beginnings of a red knot marked the spot she’d been punched, she grimaced and moaned again.

“Dax?” she asked weakly.

“You okay? You took a pretty bad hit, from the looks of it.”

“Yeah. Asshole was wearing a ring.” Her eyes landed on me, before skimming down to what had to be a bloody fucking mess all over my leather seats. “You’re bleeding. Were you shot?”

“Stabbed.”