breath from his lungs.
The only thing he could see was Billy—beaten, hurt and kneeling in front of Randy
while Randy glared defiantly at Xavier and tried to ram his dick down Billy’s throat. A glint of streetlamp reflected off a knife in Randy’s hand and Xavier about lost his mind as rage pummelled him.
The growl that tore from Xavier sounded animalistic. It was the kind of sound he’d
never heard himself make before. It coiled his guts and burned its way up his throat, scorching him with the intensity of his anger. The level of anger he felt was nothing he’d ever thought himself capable of, and apparently neither had Randy.
Xavier was barely aware of other hands reaching for him, fists swinging, yells and
thumps and cursing. He was focused on Randy, the sick fuck, and he lunged, grabbing
Randy’s wrist hard enough to crush bones—he hoped.
Randy screamed, cursing Xavier. The hatred in Randy’s expression contorted the man’s features into an ugly mask as he shoved forward, trying to throw his weight against Xavier.
The knife dipped close to Xavier’s chest. He grunted and tightened his grip, squeezing harder on his brother’s wrist, fury and pain flooding him as he realised Randy wanted him dead.
The knife fell from Randy’s hand just as Xavier brought his other fist up and slammed it against Randy’s mouth. Anything, anything to stop the hateful words coming from his mouth. Randy’s words hurt as much as any physical pain Xavier had ever felt.
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Randy yelled and tried to fight back, but Xavier, who’d always held back some of his strength when it came to fighting his brother, didn’t do so this time. The fact that Randy intended to sexually assault Billy—hopefully he hadn’t got that far, but if he had—combined with the cruel words Randy spewed served to demolish Xavier’s restraint.
Xavier howled and caught Randy in his soft stomach. Randy retaliated by dropping to
the ground and retching over Xavier’s shoes. Xavier drew back a foot to kick Randy in the head but some thread of reason prevailed and he stepped back as Randy fell over, his eyes closed and his breathing shallow.
Jesus, he’d almost killed his own brother! But Billy was like a brother too, sometimes even like…like a son, if Xavier were to be honest, and for Randy to go after Billy of all people!
Billy—
“What do you want to do now, boss?”
Xavier startled at Troy’s voice coming from right behind him. He turned and spotted
legs sprawled behind and to the left of Troy. Too many legs. “Why is there a man lying on the ground holding Billy?”
As he spoke, the man—he looked to be rather huge, Xavier noted—craned his neck and
gave him a confused look. Xavier recognised him then as the out-of-place customer he’d noticed earlier. The man sure didn’t look so starched and pressed now.
Troy glanced at the downed pair as well and shrugged. “I dunno. Dude,” he said,
addressing the stranger, “why are you even out here? Weren’t you at the bar a few minutes ago?”
The man twisted and grunted, pulling himself into a sitting position and cradling Billy’s head in his lap. Once apparently satisfied, he buried one hand in Billy’s hair and looked at Xavier and Troy with an expression that all but screamed they were idiots.
“Do you really think now is the time for this? Wouldn’t it be better to call an ambulance and the police? Although,” a wicked smile curved the man’s lips as he dug out his wallet.
Xavier’s stomach sank down to his ankles. This wasn’t going to be good.
“I am Special Agent Liam Stone, with the FBI,” he said as he held out his open wallet.
“Could this night get any more fucked?” Troy grumbled.
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Xavier gave him a dirty look and smacked him on the shoulder. “Do not ask shit like that! It’s like Fate sees it as a challenge when