Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Shit…cops were with them, too. I hated cops; they always wanted to go ‘by the book’. After seeing what they did to Baker, I wanted to play with them. “Take care of Baker!” I ordered our men. “I’ve got this one.”
I heard the cops say something about them having things under control, but pretended I didn’t. I jumped into making the fucker pay for hurting Baker and all the men taken before him, and I did it quickly and efficiently, knowing the cops wouldn’t stand aside for very long. I had no intentions of killing the man, but a part of me wanted to get as close to that point as I could before stepping over the line. I smashed his face with my fist and then raised my knee to connect to his balls…if he had any. When his blood sprayed across my face, there was no stopping me. I kept pounding into him, trying, even though I knew it to be impossible, to beat the hatred and prejudice out of him.
My fists and knees kept connecting until he no longer struggled, but lay in a fetal position on the floor, begging and sobbing for me to stop. I wasn’t sure I could have forced myself to stop even then, but Baker’s weak voice, halted every movement.
“Seth! Stop it; that’s enough,” he ordered. “Our jobs are done here.”
Two cops had to support Baker’s body, and his wrists dangled at an awkward angle. My heart broke in fucking two when I paused long enough to really see how much damage they’d done to him while I’d been running around like a chicken with its head cut off. I wanted to reach for him, to hold him against me and swear I’d never let another person touch him again, but guilt kept my feet planted to the floor.
“We’re finished,” he said softly.
Just when I finally gained control of my body again and started to reach for him, Landon stormed into the room, shouting orders and taking control of the scene. There were a couple of men with him and I assumed they were detectives with the local police department. My heart ached. I needed to feel Baker in my arms again just to assure myself he was fine…that they hadn’t hurt him too badly.
Landon strode forward. “Take over the scene, Agent Wilkinson. Ensure that the proper men are taken into custody and share all our credentials and information with these men.” He ushered the two detectives in my direction. He leaned closer to me and said, “Do your job, Agent. You know how this goes. The police need as much information as we can give them to assist with the case. I’ll make sure that Baker gets to the hospital.”
********
I tore through the doors of the hospital at the same time that Landon was exiting, knocking him flat on his ass when we collided. I paused to yank him off the floor and demand, “Where is he?”
I’d spent four hours trapped at the police station, showing them my credentials, answering questions, answering more questions, and, finally, answering even more fucking questions. My nerves were shot, my head exploding with worry for Baker, and furious because Landon hadn’t answered any of my texts, other than to tell me what hospital they’d taken Baker to. The way I saw things, they should be on their hands and knees, bowing down to me and my incredible display of strength for not killing the sons of bitches that had dared lay a violent hand on Baker. Instead, they were apparently trying to push me over the edge just for shits and giggles. When I’d finally escaped, no—walked out on them, I’d been shocked to find that Landon didn’t have a car waiting on me.
After calling him every bad name in my mental dictionary and flagging down a taxi, it had been a good five hours since I’d last seen Baker. My Baker. His face had already been bruising and blood trickled from his mouth. There’d been a cut on both corners of his lips, a gash on the top lip, and one eye was swollen shut. Burn marks, probably from the taser, mottled his chest. The way they had him hanging there had to have done damage to his wrists and shoulders. Through all that, though, he’d smiled at me. There wasn’t even a hint of surprise on his face—he’d known I’d get to him.
As soon as he was properly healed, I was going to throttle his pretty ass until he wouldn’t be capable of sitting for a week…or longer. How could he have left me behind like he did?
I knew why—it was because he’d been capable of doing his job…and he’d known I wouldn’t be. He’d known there was no way I would allow him to put himself in danger, even though it was part of our original plan.