Chapter Seventeen
“You don’t knock that shit off you’re going to run off all the help we have today,” Torin said, and frowned at Davin.
He couldn’t stop the broad smile on his face, and he was fairly sure it was creeping out most of the men he was working with that day.
It wasn’t often that his men saw him so happy.
He shook his head. “Don’t think I could if I wanted to.” He beamed.
Davin surveyed the group of men that they had been able to gather to help secure the perimeter. Just another hour, and they would have the whole place locked down, and ready for whatever happened after tonight.
“Well, you had better try,” Torin whispered. “Lots of the guys are talking right now.”
Davin turned, and for the first time, the smile slipped from his face. “If anyone has anything to say, they can say it to my fucking face,” he said, loud enough so anyone nearby could hear. “I’m not my cousin.”
Several of the men moved a little faster on the wire they were laying. He knew what they were thinking, likely the same thing he thought when his cousin let some of the men go with Ennis: that he’d gone soft.
“Think that was wise?” Torin whispered.
Davin shrugged and grinned back at his second. Always worried about the next step.
“I think they know where they stand with me, and that’s all they need to know.”
Torin sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “So is this happening?”
Davin gave a firm nod. “I’m done running. Couldn’t if I wanted. She’s mine, and that’s all that matters.”
Torin stared at him for a moment and shook his head with a little laugh. “Of course you’d do this right when we’ve got a shit storm headed our way.”
Davin grinned. “When isn’t there a shit storm headed our way?”
Torin laughed. “Good point.”
Davin glanced at his watch. Another four hours, and Morgan would be closing up. He’d told her he’d be late tonight, but maybe he’d be able to stop by before then. Maybe get in a little afternoon snack so to speak.
He just couldn’t get enough of those moans or how she responded to just the slightest touch. Morgan was a spitfire, and nothing turned him on more.
“Christ,” Torin groaned. “I don’t even want to know what the fuck you’re thinking right now. I’m going back to work.”
Davin smirked. “Oh, you sure don’t.”
* * *
Morgan lingered on the book she was shelving. The hot abs from the model on the cover stared back at her.
“Davin’s are better,” she whispered, and giggled.
Giddy. She was a giddy school girl thanks to him. It was all she’d been able to think about all day. Just how amazing they were together.
Morgan shifted her hips to place the book on the shelf and was met with a sweet sort of ache as she did, the sort of ache that only good hard sex brought about.
She blushed a little. She still couldn’t get over how much she loved being with him, the dirty talk, and the rough way he took her.
Davin had been right about her prom date. Robbie. He was an okay guy, but he’d been all thumbs when it came to pleasing a woman, and luckily, that didn’t last long.
Not that she was afraid of sex. She’d had no problem buying a dildo for those dark and lonely nights.
Still, never once did she think of doing half the things Davin did. More so, that she might love it.
The bell on the door chimed, and she turned to smile at the customer.
“Welcome to Book Hav—”
Morgan faltered for a moment as she watched two men step into the place. They weren’t the usual sort of customer she got. Everyone had tattoos these days, but typically, guys with tattoos on their faces weren’t the nicest around there. Even if they had cross tattoos.
She flitted her gaze over to the other man. He seemed in a constant state of giggling and not in the comfortable sort of way, but more in the just ate the liver of someone sort of way.
“Welcome to Book Haven,” Morgan managed to get out.
The smile stayed on her face as the men closed the door behind them.
If they wanted money, they could have it. No way she was risking her life for a couple hundred bucks.
“My friend and I look for special book,” the man said, his accent more of a obstacle to understanding than his grammar. “You help find?”
Her heart stopped in her chest as her whole world came crashing down. Russians.
“I, um, sure,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “What book are you looking for?”
He stepped forward, a sickening smile on his face. Morgan took several steps back until she bumped into a shelf.
“Comrade Criminal,” he said, and grinned. “You might be familiar.”
Morgan moved to run, but a meaty hand slammed down on the shelf next to her, preventing her escape. The man pulled out a gun and shoved it hard against her ribs.
“Please,” she whispered.
The man laughed and said something in Russian to the other man. She watched as the other man, a fat slimy man with a pony tail, turned the open sign and drew the blinds closed.
“You beg please, bitch to Irish boyfriend?”
Morgan could feel the tears streaming down her face as the man pressed harder into her ribs, biting through the thin fabric of her blouse.
“Are you going to shoot me? The neighbors will hear. They will come check.”
His face crinkled, and she watched as the cross tattoo on the side of his face contorted.
“We have to make point,” he said quietly. “You our point.”
She shook now and closed her eyes. Morgan waited for the gun to fire and pain to explode inside, but it didn’t come.
She peeked one eye open.
The man had stepped back slightly, but the same evil smile played on his lips. The fat man had come to stand beside her.
Out of nowhere, his hand came down hard on top of her head. The butt of a gun cracked against her skull.
She collapsed to the floor. A wave of nausea came over her, and she heaved a few times.
Something warm trickled down her brow, but she wasn’t sure what. Nothing seemed to come into focus as she stared at her hand.
A harsh smell filled the room now. It choked and ate at the air around her.
Gasoline.
She could hear the men as they argued above her in Russian. Morgan wasn’t sure what it was about, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good for her.
“Enough,” the tattooed man shouted, breaking the string of Russian they had been speaking. “We don’t have time. You play later.”
Morgan blinked a few times. The tattooed man stood near her as the other ran out the back door. He squatted down to where she was, which only mildly helped.
“Maybe bitch boyfriend learn who in charge now.”
He hit her once more on the side of the head, the pain not nearly as bad as the first one.
She lay her head on her arm, only vaguely aware of the match being struck before darkness overtook her.