Maverick and Mistletoe (Hell's Handlers MC 10.50) - Page 22

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One of two things was about to happen next, and she couldn’t for the life of her determine which would be worse. Either she’d be hurt while Mav was forced to watch, or vice versa.

Lobo’s hot breath wafted across her ear, making the urge to cringe grow to nuclear levels. His hand on her throat flirted with too tight. Steph tried to keep her breathing even. A panic attack would be disastrous.

Mav’s facial expression grew lethal. “If you think for once second I’ll help you if you hurt my wife, you’re stupider than I thought.”

She couldn’t tear her gaze from her husband. He was her lifeline. If she looked away, she’d shatter into a million misshaped pieces of fear and anxiety.

Next to her ear, Lobo laughed. The evil sound sent a chill straight down her spine.

Mav’s eyes narrowed in displeasure.

Then Lobo stroked the side of her neck with the back of his hand. “No, Maverick, I don’t think that. But I bet you’ll help me to stop your wife from being hurt.”

An icy wave washed over her, yet sweat dripped from her pores.

“Take your fucking hands off her.” Mav’s voice held the type of cold, deadly promise she’d only witnessed a few times from her husband. In each of those instances, he followed through with fatal results.

Snickering, Lobo said, “I like you, Maverick. In another world, we’d have been good friends.”

Her husband grunted a disbelieving sound. “Pretty sure your hands are still on my wife.”

“You know how to make that stop.” Lobo licked up the side of her face.

Steph wrenched her head to the side to get away from his slimy tongue. She didn’t want to react. Staying relaxed would keep Mav from flying off the handle, but she couldn’t keep from reacting to Lobo’s disgusting advance.

“Give me a fucking phone,” Mav said. “I’ll call Curly right now.”

“Wow, so simple.” Lobo straightened.

As his face moved away from hers, Steph blew out a silent, shaky breath. Nothing about this appeared simple. Something else was coming, she could feel it in her bones.

Lobo’s hands settled like hundred pounds weights on her shoulders once again.

Mav’s jaw ticked.

The two idiots Lobo had brought with him hovered near Mav, each on one side. Digger wore a gleeful grin as though he was having the time of his life. The other’s bored expression held no emotion. Dead, that was how his eyes seemed—no sense of life or emotion.

Tension filled the stifling room as they all waited for Lobo’s response. The air grew so thick and hot it was nearly visible.

Seconds ticked by, marked only by the rapid staccato of her heart. Each bead of sweat rolling down her face left an irritated trail she couldn’t scratch. Her heavy breaths sounded loud as a siren in the quiet space.

Mav, for his part, kept his homicidal gaze trained on Lobo as if he could end the man with his hatred. Steph stared at Mav, her lifeline.

“Here’s the thing,” Lobo finally said. His voice cracked through the silence like thunder, making Stephanie jolt.

Mav remained still as a corpse. He didn’t even blink.

“I give you a phone now, and you call Curly. You tell him I want money and Spec or I’m going to hurt your woman. We agree on a time and place to meet. You give Curly some code, so he knows more than I want him to. Then Curly comes prepared for war, as does his dog Spec. They fuck my shit up without handing over a dime while Spec laughs and pisses on my beaten body.”

“I fail to see the problem,” Mav growled.

Lobo’s laugh was quickly becoming Stephanie’s least favorite sound.

“Of course, you don’t. Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m going to spend a little time making sure you’re calling for the right reasons.” He started to slide a hand off her shoulder and down her chest.

No!

Stephanie’s heart leaped into her throat, nearly gagging her.

“I want you desperate enough to convey the right message to Curly. I want you begging him for the money. I want you to get him to agree to come alone with Spec and unarmed.”

His hand closed over her left breast.

Steph whimpered and bit her lower lip. Hard.

Maverick snarled.

“Mmm,” Lobo whispered. “Soft.” His other hand appeared from nowhere. With one lightning-quick flick of his wrist, he opened a switchblade, turning it back and forth in front of her head.

“Get the fuck away from her,” Mav shouted. He struggled against the ropes binding him to the chair.

Stephane tracked every movement the blade made as Lobo waved it at her eye level.

“Bet your skin is even softer.”

She held her breath as the blade came at her. When he snuck it down the front of her T-shirt, Stephanie squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Mav screamed and cursed every foul word in existence as he fought to break free.


Tags: Lilly Atlas Hell's Handlers MC Romance
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