Right Where She Belongs

Chapter Twenty-Eight

[Kat's P.O.V]

"What the fuck is going on here?"

I ignored Dallas, focusing my attention back on the twins. "Okay, so, I want to thank you both for your co-operation through this difficult process. It's not easy for me to say, but I know either way I go, one of you would end up unhappy so I'm just gonna spit it out. Michael, you have nicely shaped calves and a trim waist. Jordan, you have nice muscular shoulders and a decent overall build. However, for this...I'm going to have to go with Michael. I'm sorry Jordan."

Michael let out a big whooping cry of victory, fist pumping the air while Jordan's shoulders slumped. He looked completely crushed. I felt a small twinge of pity for the kid.

"Alright!" A deep voice boomed suddenly, the loud voice echoing in the hollow room. "On your hands and knees. Now!"

My head snapped up to see a Vin Diesel look alike holding up a gun, aimed directly at the twins. My eyes flew opened wide and I saw from the corner of my eye as the twins simultaneously dropped to the floor.

"Shit!" Michael cursed.

"Guy's got a gun!" Jordan whimpered.

 "What the fuck?" I cried, jumping to my feet. "Who the hell are you and what the hell do you think you're doing with that thing?"

Vin Diesel didn't spear me a second glance. His hard eyes were narrowed, thick brows creased in concentration. The gun was still cocked at the blonde siblings who were quivering - and not to mention still half naked - on the floor. I waved helplessly at Dallas who was exchanging tense looks with Sam.

"Dallas!" I barked. "Who is this guy?" Honestly, I shouldn't have been surprised that Dallas knew a guy with a gun who looked like he just got out of the military.

Or prison.

"Jesse," Dallas grunted to me briefly before continuing his intense stare down with his cousin. I almost jumped out of my skin when Sam's large hand landed on my shoulder. Warmth emanated from his hand, heat spreading swiftly through my body and sending a delicious shiver down my spine. Damn. 

Focus, Jerkins. There's a large burly man holding a gun to the twin's head. Now is so not the time to get all gooey over boys touch.

A man’s touch, the sneaky, lustful voice corrected. 

"That's great," I replied heatedly, not taking my eyes off the bald, gun wielder. "Now can you explain to me what the hell is going on and why he's holding an illegal gun to their heads?" I waved my hand in the direction of the twins whose bodies were shivering from the lack of clothing and cool ground. I mean, it wasn’t like they didn’t deserve to be shot, but they couldn’t die just yet. I still needed answers from my - ex - coworkers. 

Dallas finally pried his eyes away from his cousin long enough to pin me with a glare so fierce it could make a grown man cry. Me? I was unimpressed. "First of all, that gun is legal in these parts of the country. Second, we're here to rescue your asses. Although," His eyes moved deliberately to the twins before looking back, "It seems like you weren't all in that much trouble to begin with."

I narrowed my eyes and placed my hands moodily on my hips. He did not just go there. "'Not that much trouble'?" I stormed, "I got jabbed with a needle, drugged and tied to a bed like some kind of virgin sacrifice! Not to mention I had to endure hours with these guys yapping and bickering like kids! Do you know how degrading it was to flutter my lashes and flaunt my boobs like a damn stripper?  To make it more insulting I didn't even get paid for it. And do not get me started on the fact that my bladder feels like it’s going to burst and flood the place. So don’t you come in here and accuse me of having a damn picnic because let me tell you, my friend, my life until this point has been anything but walk in the fucking park!"