ALL THE RAGE (writer: T.M. Frazier)(72)

Smoke stood on wobbly legs. Blood dripped from the bullet hole in his bicep. Cody backed away from me, his gun now trained on us both. “Rage here wanted to get f*cked, and as much as I wanted to be the man for the job, it seems that I can’t do two things at once right now.” He held up the button. Nolan moaned again. He was only a few feet from us and had enough explosives around him that if Cody pushed that button, all three of us would be in pieces within less than a second.

Smoke growled as I wrapped my hands around my breasts to cover myself.

“Oh no, you don’t get to cover up. Put your f*cking hands back on the table, Hope,” Cody ordered, the flashing light in his hand the only reason I reluctantly complied.

Smoke stood protectively in front of me, shielding me from Cody. “What exactly are you trying to do here?” Smoke asked.

“You are the one who took her from me. You drove her off in the middle of the night, and I never heard from her again. I want all of you to know how that feels. To have something taken from you. To be wronged.” He looked at Smoke but aimed his gun at my head. “So now I’m gonna take something from you. From both of you. I’m going to take away your free will. Your right to chose. I’m going to take this from you like you took her away from me.” Cody laughed, low and deep. Tears formed in his eyes.

“What the f*ck are you saying, motherf*cker? What exactly is it that you want?” Smoke boomed, his voice echoing throughout the park.

Cody sniffled. His eyes became darker. His jaw tensed. His shoulders straightened with newfound determination to make us suffer. “What I’m saying, is that you two are gonna f*ck, and I’m gonna watch while you find out how it feels to have something taken from you.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE




Rage


“No,” Smoke said, crossing his arms over his chest. Cody fired the gun, the bullet grazed my shin, which felt like someone had raised an ax and swung it down on my leg.

“As I said,” Cody spat, “this isn’t a f*cking choice. You do it and you can watch her die first before I kill you.”

My world was crashing around me. I didn’t feel rage or anger. I felt defeat. I turned to Smoke. “It’s…it’s okay,” I said reluctantly.

“Fuck,” Smoke said, dropping his head into his hands.

“Now,” Cody demanded.

“Shut the f*ck up for a second!” Smoke roared. He looked to me, his gaze dropping momentarily to my bare chest before he caught himself and looked away. “I’m so f*cking sorry,” he whispered, although there was nothing to apologize about.

I shook my head. “Don’t be. We gotta get out of here,” I whispered.

“This isn’t what I ever wanted,” Smoke said. “I’m a guy, so I can’t say I never imagined it. But I want what’s best for you and that’s never been me.” He paused and jerked his chin to the table behind me where I heard Nolan moan again. “That’s him.”

I nodded. “This is just a job, Smoke. We always finish the job. No matter what,” I said, wanting to rid the hurt from his voice. I didn’t glance back at Nolan. I couldn’t. I closed my eyes tightly then opened them again, I looked back up at Smoke. “Right?” I asked, staring into his eyes, seeking his agreement.

“Right,” Smoke said softly, although his expression said otherwise.

“Clothes. Off. Now,” Cody demanded. “Or I shoot her other f*cking leg and then her f*cking head.”

“I’m not taking my f*cking cut off,” Smoke argued. Every muscle in his neck tensed.

Cody snickered. “I don’t have all f*cking day here. Shut the f*ck up and do it already!” His voice was a mixture of anger and hurt and lust, and I just wanted it all to be over.

“It’s okay,” I said again to Smoke, who shot Cody one last death glare before standing between my legs.

But it wasn’t okay. It was anything but okay.

I’d offered everything up, including my humanity and my soul in exchange for the freedom that being a vessel of destruction brought. And now I was hurting inside. But not for myself. For Smoke. And especially for Nolan, who I prayed was still passed out and not about to witness the death of something that had never really had the chance to get started.

Us.

Playing a role was one thing. I’d never actually wished to be someone else before. But for a brief moment, when Smoke was tugging off my shorts and panties, I truly wished that I was Hope Michaels, and not the devil who looked like an angel.

But an actual angel.

An actual good person.

Someone worthy of the two men I’d put in the middle of my shit situation. It was all my fault. I let them in. I let them get close to me, and look what happened.

Get a grip, Rage, I commanded myself. You’re stronger than this.

I shook off my unhelpful thoughts and tried to refocus.

I am Rage. A tracker. A killer. I am strong. I am capable.

I do what it takes to get the f*cking job done.

Smoke pushed his long dark hair out of his eyes and unzipped his jeans, pushing them down and pulling me to the edge of the table. He spread my legs and stepped between them. His hard cock poking into my stomach. “I’ll try not to hurt you,” he whispered. “Fuck, it’s the first time in my f*cking life I wish I wasn’t able to get hard.”