The Way I Like It (The Soldiers of Wrath MC, #5) Read Free Page A

couldn’t even fight back for how sick she felt, for how much it hurt. But Elena couldn’t just sit here and take it.
    She was hauled up, and using all the strength she had, she brought her knee up, connected with his nuts.
    He grunted and cursed, and she was hit in the face again, so hard this time her head cracked back against the brick wall. Darkness threatened to take her, but before she let it claim her, the sound of a motorcycle came closer, the deep rumble filling her head. Lights filled the alley, and she blinked back the blurriness, trying to focus. But she couldn’t hear very well anymore, couldn’t see anything but a large, imposing figure walking toward them, his voice muffled, unintelligible, and sounding like the very devil himself.
    Was he her savior, or was this her end?

Chapter Three

    S triker had watched the young woman leave the diner, parked in an alley across the street, knowing he should feel bad, feel like a creep for doing it, but not caring and not stopping. After she’d disappeared down the street, he’d sat, debating on going after her or just ignoring this need he suddenly had for her. He’d never had this sudden, intense reaction to a woman, and because of that, he had followed her, staying far enough behind she couldn’t hear his Harley, but following her nonetheless.
    Just by looking at her, he’d seen that she was too damn sweet; this world would swallow her whole and spit her back out again.
    Fuck.
    She was alone, and even if he didn’t know her, he had a feeling she wasn’t the type of person able to really take care of herself. And by that, he meant going to any lengths.
    It wasn’t up to him to make it work, though.
    Fuck.
    He repeated that over and over again.
    Fuck.
    Fuck.
    And then he’d seen her walk past Dominion. He’d been so focused on the club, his outlet for a while now, that Striker lost sight of her for a moment, his surprise that she was stopping to stare at Dominion shocking him. And then he’d found her, saw her getting pulled into any alley, and rage filled him. Two men surrounded the woman, and they were scaring her, hurting her. He pulled into the alley, dismounted his bike quickly, and rushed toward her as one of them slammed his fist into her stomach, and the other hit her in the face.
    Striker charged, not thinking, only seeing these men dead. He grabbed one man’s arm, cupped his head, and slammed him against the brick wall. The other guy’s face was red, and the scent of chemicals filled his head. Good, she’d gotten the prick with pepper spray. The asshole released her, and she instantly fell in a heap on the ground, covering her face and crying.
    “What the fuck do you want?” the man still standing asked.
    “You touched her, hurt her,” Striker said, hoping this fucker was a good fighter, because he wanted this to last. He wanted this man’s blood on his hands; he wanted to hear the crunch of bones breaking against his knuckles.
    “Yeah, we’re going to have a taste of her cunt. You want a piece, you’re going to have to get in line.”
    This fucker was dead.
    “You’re not going to touch the girl,” he said, getting ready to attack.
    “Fuck off, she’s ours.” The man on the ground got up. He looked a little dazed, but even he wasn’t ready to back away. They were assholes.
    He cracked his knuckles.
    “You’re not touching the girl.”
    “There’s one of you and two of us.”
    They charged then. Striker took the first man, slamming his knee into the guy’s dick, before spinning around, and shoving him against the wall again. The sound of flesh hitting the brick and of bone crunching surrounded him. He moved the other man away from the cowering woman and continued his attack. The one he’d just slammed into the wall was out, but his friend growled out low and charged him. Striker punched him the gut before taking the heel of his hand and slamming it into his nose, pushing the bone up. The sound of bones smashing was sweet