บททั้งหมดของ Trapped Between Two Alphas: บทที่ 601 - บทที่ 610

Today had proven folks in Sunset had bigger hearts than she’d thought, and she felt almost sheepish that she’d imagined differently.At least until five o’clock. Then Theresa Wood arrived, all scrutinizing green eyes and gray roots concealed by an updo that showed off her faux platinum ends. Brea sighed. She’d always suspected the woman didn’t like her. Why the divorcée continued to make appointments with her, given their mutually unspoken enmity, was anyone’s guess.“How are you today, Mrs. Wood?”The fiftyish woman leaned around the partition to stare out the plate-glass windows at the reporters clogging the sidewalk, then turned back to her with a judgmental smirk. “A damn sight better than you, I’d say.”Brea pasted on a smile like she didn’t have a care in the world as she dismantled the woman’s updo. No way would she let Mrs. Wood dig those artificial claws into her hide. “I’m fine, thanks for asking. Your roots definitely need attention. Let’s head on over to the shampoo bowl.

If fate decided that she should spend her life with Bryant, she’d get it.People hugged and guys slapped each other on the back. The happiness in the room was palpable. He tried to shove down his resentment and envy. All these men were sure of their futures, secure in the knowledge they would spend the rest of their days with the woman they loved.One-Mile hated that he might have to let his girl marry another man. But for her safety, he would stand back and let her—no matter how much it killed him.Hell, the odds weren’t good that he’d even be alive by then.Speaking of which, he didn’t have any time to lose.When Cutter headed for the exit again, One-Mile tossed his half-empty plate into the bin, then turned to Logan. “I need to talk to you. I have to regroup, and I need a hookup on more supplies, but I’ll have to call you later.”“What? No, goddamn it. You owe us some fucking answers,” Logan shouted.But One-Mile was already across the room, trying to block Bryant from leaving. As

“Then I would have missed out on the best thing that ever happened to me.”“Damn it, you’re making resisting you hard. Literally.” Pierce grimaced as if he was trying to focus. “Why is Matt still in town? Did something happen?”“No. He said he’s taking a vacation. The weather is supposedly better here.”“No supposedly about it.”“He might have mentioned his…um, nether regions appreciating a break from a Wyoming winter.”“Only you would describe a man’s balls that way.” The smile that creased his face now, just like the first one he’d ever flashed her, transformed him. She’d forgotten how brutally masculinely beautiful he was.“I’m polite.”“To a fault,” he teased. “You’re adorable.”She smiled. “I suspect Matt thought I was helpless, so he stayed around because you weren’t here.”His smile widened. “That’s Matt. He’s a good son of a bitch.”A gust of wind surged and blew. Despite Pierce’s big body, she found herself shivering in the December chill.He wrapped his arms around her again

But first, he had to fucking focus on the actions—which he’d performed hundreds of times—not the stakes. If he thought about the consequences for fucking up, he’d never succeed.Dragging in one more breath, One-Mile forcibly cleared his mind to steady himself and froze, hyper-focused. He didn’t blink or hesitate. And he definitely didn’t let Montilla climb on top of the girl. He merely curled his finger around the trigger and squeezed.Through the scope, he watched the asshole for the pure thrill, but he didn’t need to wait the fraction of a second it took for the bullet to plow into the fucker’s temple to know he’d hit his mark. It was done.Montilla was finally dead.As the drug lord crumpled to the ground and the redhead screamed, One-Mile closed the window and packed up his equipment with an economy of movement, hurrying without rushing. When he was done, he slung everything on his back, wiped every surface he’d touched clean, pulled his hoodie over his face again, and trotted dow

Would he really rip her out of it? That had her panting. “I don’t care about it at all.”She had another change of clothes upstairs.His smile was filthy. “Perfect. Anyone else in the house?”She hadn’t thought to check. “I-I don’t know.”Pierce cursed under his breath. “Oh, well. I don’t care anyway.”He lifted her and carried her up the stairs, kicking in the door to the first bedroom at the top and flipping on the light switch, illuminating the soft recessed lighting overhead. The walls were gray except for one, which was decorated with a big photographic mural of a pink rose. He set her down on a black-and-white geometric rug, less than a foot from a rumpled bed. Since she’d changed in here earlier, her bag sat in the corner.She’d barely found her footing when she heard fabric rip and felt a draft of cold air rush along her back. Suddenly, he spun her around, jerked on the sleeves, then tore her bra away. Less than ten seconds, and she was bare from the waist up.If she helped, s