Wild Man (Dream Man #2)(127)
He grunted in pain and his head shot to the side when I did.
And he didn’t right it before I punched him again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
Then I wrapped my hands around his neck and squeezed.
“You f**king dick,” I whispered as I squeezed, his hands at my wrists trying to pull mine away, I put my entire body weight into my arms, everything I had in me I transferred to my fingers and I… squeezed… hard. “You f**king, f**king dick. ” His body bucked, his feet kicked out, trying to push me off but I kept my focus, kept my place and kept squeezing.
“You took Bree’s beautiful future, you are not gonna take mine. ”
I squeezed harder.
He started gagging.
I kept squeezing.
I watched his face turn purple as his mouth started opening and closing, his body stopped bucking and started jerking.
I kept squeezing.
I didn’t hear the front door crash open and I didn’t hear the pounding boots of men’s feet on floorboards.
I just kept squeezing.
Then I wasn’t straddling him anymore. I was up and my back was plastered to a hard male body, my wrists captured and wrapped around the front of me and lips came to my ear as I watched my attacker suck in air, hands to his throat as a tall, dark-haired man with a badge at his belt stood pointing a gun down at him.
“You’re safe,” those lips whispered in my ear. “I’m Hawk, Gwen’s man and you’re safe Tess.”
My body, tense and wired, stayed that way for long moments then it sagged in his arms, my legs going clean out from under me but he held me up and he held me close against his solid warmth.
“You’re safe, Tess,” he whispered again in my ear.
I nodded mutely, my eyes on the dark-haired man who was using his boot to kick my attacker to his stomach then he crouched down, knee in his back, pulling cuffs out of a holder on the belt of his jeans, yanking my attacker’s hands behind him and cuffing them.
I started trembling.
Hawk, Gwen’s man, arms went tighter.
The dark-haired man muttered a harsh, “Do not f**kin’ move,” to the man on the floor.
Then he stood, pulled a phone out of his back pocket, hit buttons and put it to his ear. Then his warm but intense and alert dark brown eyes came to me, he did a top-to-toe, they shifted up to Hawk then back to me. Then he said into his phone. “Yeah, it’s Lawson. We got her.
She’s unharmed. Tell Slim.”
We got her. She’s unharmed. Tell Slim.
That’s when I started crying.
Epilogue
He Got His Wish
The alarm went off.
It was music, Tim McGraw, and Brock heard Tess murmur sleepily, “What on earth?”
He grinned before he even opened his eyes.
She shifted away from him but before she could touch the button to turn off the music, he opened his eyes, caught her about the waist and pulled her back into his body.
She rolled in his arm and tipped her green eyes up to him, her light brown hair with its blonde highlights tousled and partly in her face.
“Who’s that?” she asked, lifting a hand to shift the soft tendrils out of her eyes.
“Tim McGraw,” he answered, understanding her question and knowing she had no f**king clue who Tim McGraw was. He’d spent more than a year introducing her to his music and she spent more than a year mostly ignoring these efforts.
The music started to get louder.
He watched her eyes narrow and it wasn’t because she didn’t have her glasses.
“How’d that get on my player?”
“I put it there.”
“You –” she began but he rolled into her so his body was on her soft, sweet one and he dipped his face close to hers.
“Baby,” he whispered, “it’s my birthday. I’m not wakin’ up to Fiona Apple.”
“Fiona wasn’t in the scheduled mix,” she informed him.
“Or Tori Amos,” he added.
“She wasn’t either.”
“Or Sarah McLachlan.”
“Her either.”
“Or Paula Cole.”
She snapped her mouth shut.
Yeah, there it was and Paula f**king Cole was definitely not scheduled for his birthday.
He felt his body start shaking and he heard Tim McGraw start to get louder.
He controlled his humor, dipped his face closer and again reminded her, “It’s my birthday.”
“I need to turn off the music.”
“Yeah, you can do that after you start my birthday right.”
“It’s getting louder.”
She wasn’t wrong. It was getting louder.
“Tess,” he growled as he pressed his body into hers, she bit her lip then the door flew open.
His head jerked back and he watched Joel and Rex walk in just as they had last year, just as Tess organized for him, her and Joel to walk into Rex’s room two days later with his cake and for them with Rex to walk into Joel’s room four days after that with his.
Joel was carrying a beautifully decorated birthday cake, undoubtedly carrot, his favorite, that held an abundance of tall, thin, blue candles all of them lit.
They were sing-shouting “Happy Birthday to You” over Tim McGraw and smiling like idiots.