Page 68 of Bolt's Flame
“Bullshit,” Horse snarled, stepping closer, aiming his gun at his head. “You hurt my little girl. You don’t get totalkanymore.”
He raised the gun slightly, the barrel wavering between us. His hands were trembling, and it was clear as day that he didn’t have control of the situation anymore. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. A cornered animal is always the most unpredictable.
“Put the gun down, James,” Devil said, his voice steady, his gun trained on him. “This doesn’t have to go the way you think it’s going to.”
Of course, Devil was lying to the pathetic fuckhead to avoid one of our men getting hurt. James wasn’t leaving here alive.
James’s eyes flicked to Devil, then back to me, desperation dripping from his every move. “I just... I didn’t want her to leave, okay? She’s my wife and I love her.”
Those words pissed me off.His wifeand he loved her. It took everything in me not to tear him apart right then and there. If he got a shot off, so be it.
“She’s not shit to you,” I said, my voice cold as ice.
He shook his head, sweat pouring down his face, but now his anger was showing. “She loves me. Just because Fiona let you fuck her doesn’t mean anything.”
“Let’s kill him,” Horse muttered from beside me. “Now.”
I took another step forward, barely able to control the rage that wanted me to put a bullet through his skull. “You can’t stand it, can you? That she loves me, that I made her feel so fucking good in a way you never could.”
That hit the mark, his eyes flickering with fury, and he raised the gun fully, aiming it right at me. But before he could pull the trigger, I lunged.
The sound of gunfire exploded in the air, but it wasn’t his gun. It was Devil’s.
The bullet hit him square in the shoulder, knocking him back against the wall. His gun clattered to the ground, and he let out a strangled cry of pain, clutching his shoulder. We didn’t want to give him a quick death, no; he deserved more.
I was on him in seconds, ripping him off the wall and slamming him to the ground, my fist connecting with his jaw. He grunted in pain, his body crumpling beneath me, but I didn’t stop.
Icouldn’tstop.
“You’ll never fucking touch her again,” I growled, my fists raining down on him, each punch fueled by the image of Fiona—bruised, broken, terrified. I wanted him to suffer and feel the same pain he gave Fiona over the years.
His face was a bloody mess, his body limp. I don’t know how much time passed before a hand gripped my shoulder, pulling me back.
“Bolt!” Devil’s voice cut through the haze of rage. “Enough.”
I hesitated, my fists still clenched, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I looked down at James, his face and body a ruined mess. He was done. He wasn’t a threat anymore toanyone.
“Get him out of here,” Devil ordered, stepping forward. “You know the drill.”
Chain and Gearhead moved in, hauling James’s broken body off the floor and dragging him out of the room. I stood there, my chest heaving, my fists bloody and still shaking with the need to keep going.
Horse clapped me on the back and said, “Now I believe you deserve Fiona.”
The mention of her name brought me back, the red haze of anger lifting just enough for me to see clearly again. I nodded,stepping back, my breathing finally slowed. “Let’s get out of here.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
THE HARSH LIGHTpierced through my closed eyelids,drawing awareness to the aches and heaviness settling over every part of me. Pain pulsed in my face and stomach, a sharp reminder of what had happened, while a dull, deeper ache lingered.
Where was I?
Was I Safe?
It seemed like a fragile concept, but the familiar hum of voices nearby suggested it might be real this time. A slow turn of my head revealed him sitting there.
Bolt.
In the chair beside the bed, his face was taut with worry, but his eyes softened the moment he noticed movement. Leaning forward, he brushed a stray strand of hair from my face. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re finally awake.”