Devil’s Game (Reapers MC #3)(33)
Author: Joanna Wylde

If I survived, I was never wearing high heels again.

I stared up at Skid towering over me, trying to guess my next move. He didn’t seem too happy, which was fine with me. I wasn’t very happy, either. Somehow, I had to find some way to slow him down or Sophie was toast. I’d love to say that I was utterly selfless in my resolve to sacrifice myself for a friend, but in reality, she was my best shot at a rescue now that I’d been seen.

In the movies, this is where I would have slinked back, fluttered my eyelashes, and used the power of my sexuality to distract him. But frankly, my sexuality hadn’t been bringing great things into my life lately. I didn’t quite trust my instincts in that arena.

But my teeth? Those I trusted.

I pushed off from the stairwell wall with my feet, sliding across the wooden floor toward Skid like a missile, hoping to hell he wouldn’t actually shoot. My hands caught his ankle, shoving up his pant leg so I could lock my jaws around his flesh.

“Fuck!” he yelled as my teeth sank in. “You f**king cunt!”

I ignored him, biting down harder. He started kicking at me, and I held on tight, sliding back and forth across the floor as he thrashed his leg. I heard the gun c**k but I ignored it. I might be f**ked, but Sophie wasn’t. Utter determination took over and my brain held one thought, and one thought only.

Keep biting Skid’s leg.

That’s why I didn’t even notice when he pointed his weapon. The loud crack of a gunshot broke through my fog, but I didn’t feel any pain.

Huh. Must’ve missed me.

Blood filled my mouth as I dug deeper, wondering if I could sever his tendon if I tried hard enough. Probably not, I’d need to rip at him to make that happen . . .

That’s when he shot again, and this time I definitely felt pain.

Holy shit.

I’d never experienced anything like the trail of fire that ran across my thigh. Agony. At first I couldn’t get my jaw to unlock. Then he kicked again and I went flying, slamming into the wall with a scream. I lay there, stunned, watching blood seeping out of my leg.

Wait.

BLOOD WAS LEAKING OUT OF MY LEG.

I slapped my hands down, pressing hard against the wound in my upper thigh. That felt just as fabulous as you might imagine. Shit. Holy shit. Sweet baby Jesus!

“You shot me,” I whispered, stunned. Why this was such a surprise, I don’t know. Skid glared down and shook his head.

“What did you expect, you stupid f**king bitch? You f**king bit me. Christ, do you know how dirty a human mouth is? I’ll probably get sepsis.”

“Oh, I’m so f**king sorry that your ankle hurts,” I growled, my vision blurring. “I’d kiss it all better if I wasn’t busy trying to keep the blood inside my body!”

He raised the gun and pointed it right at me.

“What the f**k Hunter sees in you I cannot imagine,” he told me. “But listen up. You got one pass. You f**k with me again, I’ll shoot you in the head and tell him you made me do it. I’ll sleep like a baby afterward, too. Got me?”

I nodded, remembering a little too late that I shouldn’t be pissing off the guy with a gun.

That’s when the doorbell rang.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Skid and I looked at each other.

“Keep your f**king mouth closed,” he hissed. That sent a surge of hope through me. He wasn’t expecting anyone . . . Rescuers? If it was Reapers, great. But what if it was some random person, or a kid? My thoughts started spinning . . . Skid could kill them.

I couldn’t just lie here like a lump, bleeding. I had to do something.

“Who’s out there?” he yelled.

Nothing.

The doorbell rang again.

“Fuck off!” he yelled, turning toward the door. I lunged at his knees from behind, hoping to knock him down. Miraculously, he crashed to the floor, dropping the gun. We wrestled over it briefly as the doorbell started ringing again, over and over. I was nowhere near as strong as Skid, so it wasn’t a huge surprise when he shoved me away and got to his feet. My head hit the wall, sending sickening waves of pain down along my spine.

“You are f**king dead if you make a noise, cunt. I’m through with you,” Skid hissed.

He stomped to the door, beyond furious. Then he threw it open and Sophie smashed a wooden chair over his head.

Wow, didn’t see that coming.

I jumped up as his gun fired, adrenaline killing the pain in my leg and skull. The chair crashed into him again. Skid roared and lunged forward. I knew this was it—either we’d win or we’d die. I attacked him from behind, throwing myself on his back, wrapping my arms around his neck and jerking him backward with my full weight. He staggered as I bit his ear, worrying at it like a dog.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sophie grab another chair and go for his legs.

This definitely wasn’t the plan.

No time to worry about that now. Skid screamed as he staggered forward, falling off the porch face-first into the dirt. I rode him down and then Sophie was there, kicking him over and over. He managed to roll to the side, which was a huge mistake, because it gave her a clear shot at his crotch.

She attacked his balls viciously, and his screeching cries of pain filled the air. That didn’t slow her down in the least. Over and over she kicked him, her face twisted with hate. He stopped struggling, and I realized he’d passed out.

I don’t know if it was from pain or if I’d managed to cut off his air. Sophie grabbed the gun, handing it off to me. I pointed it at Skid’s bloodied body, panting.

“Go upstairs and grab the cuffs,” I managed to say. “We’ll get him tied up and then call for help.”

Sophie took off, and I held the gun on him the whole time she was gone, hoping like hell he wouldn’t wake up. I was prepared to shoot—but that didn’t mean I wanted to . . .

It wasn’t because I was scared to kill another human being. Of course, the thought sickened me. But I couldn’t stop thinking about my talk with Liam, and everything he’d said about the truce and the cartel. Maybe he’d been lying to me—I certainly wouldn’t put it past him . . . But what if he’d been telling the truth? If he was, killing Skid would ruin the peace and sooner or later the cartel would come after the Reapers.

We needed him alive.

Sophie returned with the cuffs. Strangely, she also had a bedsheet and a knife from the kitchen. Together we wrestled Skid’s limp body over to the porch pillar and fastened his hands around it.

I felt the tension in my chest loosen, and I looked up at Sophie and grinned.