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They weren't professionals—too obvious for that—but they weren't lightweights either Big as fucking tree trunks in soye door with fanatical attention He'd seen the type before Roughly trained, hyped up on one substance or another, and hungry to be the guy to throw the first punch or fire the first bullet They weren't soldiers They weren't strategists They were muscle with specific orders No doubt, in this case, those orders were to grab, interrogate and dispose of Tamara

He'd wish the to know that lying rong

As soon as Red Shirt started strolling their way, Isaac had practically thrown her into the bakery's doorway He'd moved in and plastered her body to his to block her froht blonde hair so the white-blonde highlights wouldn't gliht He'd yanked her head back to keep her face in the shadows And then he'd kissed her becausewell, that was a two-part win that was biting him on the ass, or more correctly, another part of his anatoet a hard-on, but the power shot of adrenalinehis lips away froh tofrom a distance, he took in a deep breath of sanity

Taentle squeeze on the curve of her hip and she closed it The look in her blue eyes told hi her safety over to someone else

Well, too damn bad darlin', because you're stuck with me

Primed and ready for action, he continued to block Ta the bakery's s to watch the men Bored Driver and Beard Man maintained their positions Red Shirt, on the other hand, was strolling his 'roided-up self straight toward them

Isaac pivoted to completely block the man's view of Tamara "Don't move

," he whispered

With every step the man took in their direction, the air stilled a little ht cahter of a couple leaving Satchiko The hum of the traffic on one of the main roads that would eventually spill out onto Interstate 35 West

Isaac suy wasn't a pro, that didn't ood instincts Fane's outfit was based in Idaho—ho Add to that the fact that The Crest Society took the militia aspect of their twisted little cult seriously, and you had erous

Thethe closeness of their bodies to disguise his intent, he glided the back of his pal despite the circumstances the hard pebble of her nipple, and stopped when his fingertips brushed the butt of his Glock He didn't pull it—not yet, and never unless he had to

A breeze pulled some of Tamara's hair loose at the sa strand whipped her in the face, slicing across her open eyes Her quick inhale of pain was instinctual and almost silent, but not quite Red Shirt hesitated He turned TheIt was h

Keeping his body loose, Isaac looked over his shoulder at Red Shirt, a bored look on his face "I' watched man Take your pervert ass somewhere else"

Red Shirt puffed up his chest "Let irl first"

"Fuck off" He nudged Tamara another few inches farther back into the alcove's shadows "I don't share my women"