When next I roused, it was to find myself on the floor with Rogan’s patent leather pretty boy shoe on my throat.
He was smiling as he stared down at me, almost as if he was aware I was about to wake.
“Look who’s…” His voice trailed off as the door to the house opened.
Once again, I hoped to look up and see Adam standing there, but no such luck.
The man standing there was definitely not Adam.
I didn’t know who the man was. But I was really, really fucking happy that he’d walked into my place unannounced.
“Really now, Rogan,” the man drawled. He had a sweet, delectably dark southern accent that rolled over my battered soul like honey. “With your fists? Do you think they’ll be able to edit those out of your film?”
Hilton and Rogan both turned at once, halting their progress in beating the shit out of me.
Everything hurt.
My teeth. My eyeballs. My skin.
There wasn’t a single thing on my body that felt like it hadn’t been kicked or punched in some way.
And all of this was without blood.
Honestly, if my head didn’t hurt so bad, I might be impressed.
“Hunter McJimpsey. As I live and breathe,” Rogan drawled.
Hunter.
Hunt.
Was this Hunt?
Excitement started to pour through my veins as hope took root in my chest.
Please, please, please let this be Hunt the hacker.
“It’s Hunt,” Hunt said. “I know this is hard for your small little brain to understand, but my name is Hunt. It’s not short for Hunter. It’s not short for anything. Hunt is my name. How many times do I have to explain that to you?”
Rogan’s chest bowed as Hunt lectured him. Quite effectively, too.
“I know your name, Hunter,” Rogan growled. “I just refuse to use it because I know it pisses you off.”
“No.” Hunt crossed his arms over his chest. “You refuse to use it because you’re an asshole. You seem to think you’re funny when you’re not.” He paused. “Though, we already know that, don’t we?” He turned to Hilton. “You know he’s not worth it, right?”
Hilton didn’t say anything.
“Whomever has you on him to make sure your boss gets paid? He’s about to find out very quickly that his cash cow isn’t worth it. And, sadly, when you get put into prison right along with him, they’re going to kill you so you can’t talk. You know that, right?” Hunt asked.
Hilton shook his head, seemingly unsure now that Hunt was talking.
I tried to focus on everybody at once, but it was too exhausting.
And my head throbbed.
With each beat of my heart, something that started at my jaw moved upward like an ice pick through my brain.
Over and over.
Throb after throb.
Until I eventually lost focus on what Hunt and the assholes were saying because I couldn’t think past the pain.
“I know what you’re doing,” Rogan said as he shifted nearer to me, bringing my attention back to him. “And your stalling isn’t going to work. Now get out of the way, nerd boy. The grownups have things to do.”
A soft whine was immediately followed by a lick to my face, and tears started to leak down my cheeks.
King.
She was there.
When had she gotten there?
“I’m not stalling.” Hunt shrugged. “I’m trying to figure out the best way to take you both down seeing as I’m fresh out of guns.”
He was stalling.
Why was he stalling?
The dog licked my face again, and I wanted to wrap her up in my arms and protect her at the same time telling her to go back to wherever she was hiding before so the bad men didn’t hurt her.
“Goddamn.” Hunt put his hands up in the air and laced his fingers behind his head. “It’s about fuckin’ time.”
Then the door to Adam’s house was kicked open.
Hunt winced.
Rogan and Hilton tried to run.
Only, as they ran past me, I had enough energy to lift my foot up and trip them before they could get all the way by.
It hurt like the dickens.
But them not being able to escape was worth it.
They tried to stand up but they were tangled up in each other’s limbs.
Honestly, if they had one more person it would look like the Three Stooges as they tried to fight their way back to standing.
I giggled and pulled King close to me, then focused on breathing without taking too deep of a breath and hurting whatever was broken inside of me.
My eyes took in all the hot men swarming into Adam’s house, and I wondered if I’d ever be able to get a photo of them all together.
I had to admit, I did have their calendar.
But I feel like they would’ve sold a hell of a lot more of them if they’d done a photoshoot that had them all standing there, shirtless, together.
“Oh, fuck, baby.” Adam came to me.
I blinked, surprised to find him kneeling there in front of me.
“Where did you come from?” I croaked.
I reached for his hand, and he caught mine up in his palm before placing a kiss to my knuckles.
My bruised and battered, but not bleeding knuckles.
Damn, I had to admit, Hilton Barnes knew how to beat someone up.
Which was slightly terrifying.
“Your dad couldn’t get a hold of you to tell you that he delivered the restraining order against Rogan and that asshole,” he muttered, jerking his chin in the bodyguard’s direction. “So I came by since we were practically on our way. Thank fucking God that I did.”
The bodyguard who’d been body-slammed by Malachi. Malachi who was now digging his knee into the back of Hilton’s neck because he refused to stop struggling.
Sammy was cuffing Hilton’s hands behind his back while Rogan, apparently no longer able to talk a tough game, did his best to lie meekly on the floor and allow Bourne to cuff him.
I lifted up painfully to my elbow, and Adam stopped me before I could get all the way to my hands.
“No, don’t move,” he ordered. “The ambulance is coming.”
I shook my head. “I’m not getting into a fucking ambulance. My parents will freak.”
“You don’t have a choice,” he murmured as he helped me back down, this time placing me back where I was, but stuffing a soft shirt underneath my head to ward off the hard floor.
I allowed my head to roll slightly to the left and saw the canvas print of us.
“Did you see our picture?” I asked, pointing.
Adam shifted his gaze from me to the canvas and froze.
“I like it,” he murmured. “We’ll hang it up on the wall.”
I grinned. “I would’ve done that before you got home but I didn’t know where you hid all the nails.”
He twirled my hair around one of his fingers. “Does anything hurt?”
Everything hurt.