Page 60 of Born Reckless
Just as Roman opens his mouth to say something dark and grim, the man shoves the tip of the gun in his mouth. “We don’t need to hear anything more from you. We just wanted you to see the consequences of your arrogance.”
Roman’s eyes narrow and darken. But as I take two steps forward, watching my step so I don’t make a sound, his gaze slides over to me.
Just then, the second one starts to turn around. Adrenaline burns through me, and I know I’ve got about one second before I lose my element of surprise.
One moment I’m standing by the door, the next, I’m standing just three feet behind the man.
I swing for the back of his head.
Blood sprays through the air.
Roman kicks a foot out, connecting it with the gunman’s knee. It snaps backward.
I swing again, driving the rebar through the second guy’s chest. With a sick, wet sound, he falls to his knees.
The gun fires, but as I round with my rebar, I see Roman lean forward, so fast he’s barely visible. And with one quick lurch, he pitches himself, still chained to the chair, into the man’s middle section, sending them both to the floor.
As the man tries to aim his gun at Roman, I throw myself at him, rebar at the ready.
His ribcage makes the most satisfying crunch as it breaks, and then I meet soft, wet muscle.
With a feral yell, the man lets out his last breath, and I watch as he fades to gray, dead.
“You sure pissed off the wrong people,” I say as I run a hand down my dress, only my hands are covered in blood, and I smear it over myself. I straighten and look at Roman. He’s lying on his side awkwardly, still chained to that chair. I cross to him and grab his sleeve and pull him upright. I give him a little smirk. There’s something satisfying about seeing him bound with blood splattered all over his face and neck.
“What are you doing here, Juliet?” he asks. His voice is rough, and I think I detect just a slight hint of panic in it.
“Saving your ass, apparently,” I say as I walk behind him. I grip the back of the plastic chair and yank it, breaking it. As Roman shifts forward, it slips free, and the chains loosen around him. When he stands, they fall in a pile at his feet.
“I had it handled,” he growls as he straightens his fancy clothes. Those icy blue eyes glare at me through the dark.
“Sure looked like it,” I say, giving him a condescending glare.
“You shouldn’t be out here,” he growls as he looks around the large, empty space. “There are some things even a vampire should stay out of.”
I walk toward the entryway, thinking of all the training Mason and I had been doing. I’d taken it because seeing how savage Roman was freaked me out. Now I just used that training to save the very same savage. “Did you know all the horrible things those guys were doing when you killed that man?”
I look back at Roman and hold his brilliant eyes through the dark. He’s hard to read. I think there’s a trace of gratitude in them, but mostly, he just looks furious.
“Yes,” he growls.
I don’t want this truth to change how I feel about Roman. I thought he was just overreacting, that he just felt like killing someone that night.
Turns out the man was truly a bad person.
“Care to judge me more?” he asks. And the tone of his voice holds my attention. It’s filled with venom. There’s something…
I shake my head. I don’t want to think about the possibility of Roman being a decent person. “You might have had a valid reason for doing what you did that night, but you’re still an asshole. I saved your life. I think you can handle the cleanup.”
Before I can analyze the look on his face any further, I turn and walk out of the warehouse.
Chapter Thirteen
I hadno idea what it really meant when Elena referred to this vampire and supernatural party.
The afternoon before the gala, someone knocked on the door of Mason’s penthouse. I’d gotten bored of following him around, fulfilling my role as his bodyguard, so I’d gone home. When I answered the door, Elena was there with a woman who looked more plastic than human.
“This is Britta,” Elena had said. “She’s here to do your hair and makeup.”