His Word...Destruction ~ Book Four in the Trusted Saga ~ (excerpt)

Title : His Word...Destruction

Book Four in the Trusted Saga

Release date : Available now (purchase link under "Books" heading)

EXCERPT ...

Hearing the terror in Angelica’s high pitched scream coming from the direction of a closed door, sent fear like I’ve never experienced to constrict in a tight band around my chest, right before blinding rage clouded my vision with a red haze. With powerfully determined strides, I braced my shoulder for impact, and threw myself against it, knowing in my gut it was going to be locked. I heard the splintering of the wooden frame right before the door gave way, and fell half off its hinges, leaving it teetering precariously on a lean when I entered the room.

My eyes flew straight down to Angelica cowering in a sobbing mess on the floor with her arms clinging in a desperate hold around one of the table legs. Her dress was hiked up over one hip on one side, angled a little lower on her other hip, and exposing what was left of the pale yellow lacy thong she was wearing beneath it. I briefly registered Simon’s presence entering the room right behind me, and he made a beeline straight for her despondent form.

The moment I knew she was safely in his hands, my full fury locked onto Buchanan. Releasing the blinding rage from the depths of my throat, I lunged at him with my fists flying, snarling like a territorial lion defending his lioness with only one thought in my head. I’m going to fucking kill you.

My vision narrowed in on every place I struck with my fist---pummeling his eyes---his nose---his jaw---his ribs. I lost count how many times my fists connected with a sickening blow into the flesh of his face, and body. I don’t recall when Sebastian joined me. But he was by my side, united with me in making him pay for what he’d done to Angelica.

I vaguely heard someone yell “Enough’s, enough”, before I was being tackled, and pushed back through the broken doorway, and out into the foyer. Sebastian was hauled out straight behind me. Simon pulled hard on my arm, dragging me through the enormous crowd that was now gathered in the foyer.

My lungs were sucking in air rapidly, breathing heavily from the exertion of belting the absolute fucking shit out of that fucking asshole. My nostrils were flaring in, and out, and if my eyes bulged any more, they would be in danger of popping out of my head. I felt sick to my stomach. There was no pain during the altercation. I didn’t feel Buchanan’s fists connect to my face during my rage, but I was sure beginning to feel it while Simon dragged me out side when my adrenaline eased off a bit.

Buchanan appeared to look worse than I felt from what I saw when he emerged. He was a bloodied mess. The front of his shirt was soaked with blood. And probably not all his own. Some of it was more than likely mine, and Sebastian’s was sure to be amongst it, too. The claret was still flowing out of his nose, and dripping off his chin as I made another lunge that was halted by Simon, before I delivered my threat to him.

“You fucking come anywhere near Angelica again, and I’ll make sure you leave in a fucking body bag---you got that, Buchanan?” Simon was struggling to hold me back, his hands planted firmly against my chest to prevent me from doing what I desperately wanted---to lunge at him all over again when the rage once again bubbled up inside, and began clouding my rational judgement.

“Levi!” Simon got in my face, and demanded my attention. His large strong hands were propelling me backward, pushing me through the throng of people trying to peer over our shoulders to see what was happening, what they’d missed. “Calm the fuck down,” he growled angrily, relentlessly pushing against me. I started to focus, and think more clearly. My eyes started scanning the immediate area around me, and with each passing second, panic began to creep up inside me, and my heart beat strong enough to pound through my chest. Where in the fuck is she? The level of panic at not being able to find her was starting to wildly consume me, and I thrashed at Simon’s hands on my chest as I opened my mouth. “She’s safe---she’s been taken down to the limo,” Simon reassured me, and an enormous feeling of relief flooded through me hearing him utter those words.

My blood pressure dropped, leaving me feeling abnormally light headed, and I stumbled awkwardly for a few steps, before I became surefooted again. No-one paid any attention to the competitor inside the arena. They were all too focused with trying to determine what had actually taken place inside the main building between the three of us.

When I noticed the flash of a camera, I swung around, and pinned the owner of the phone that was used with an intimidating glare, and snarled. He took a hasty step backwards, to get further away from me, and put the cell phone back in his pocket. It was then I noticed quite a few phones being held up. The paparazzi may not have been granted access inside the gates, but they didn’t need to have access with the amount of iPhones accessible, and available. Those bloody phones meant every single person with one, was paparazzi in the making. It was unrealistic to believe I could intimidate everyone---or blackmail them---into relinquishing every kilobyte of image taken. There was no way out of it. This juicy piece of vision was about to become an overnight internet sensation. And it was guaranteed to make someone lucky enough to have clear, and exciting vision depicting enough of the preceding events leading up to our current disheveled appearances, a lot of fucking money. I growled aloud in frustration. We’re all going to be the hottest topic on the information superhighway in the time it takes for us to arrive back at the penthouse---Jesus fucking Christ---this is going to be one big shit storm.

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