CHAPTER SEVENTY- ONE: MY WOMAN

GRANT POV

My fist landed hard against his jaw.

The crunch of bone was clean, wet, and satisfying as he choked on his own breath, his eyes rolled to his skull and his blood was already slicking his chin.

I hit him again.

And again.

The next punch shattered his nose and blood sprayed across the concrete floor, bright red against the dull gray of the rented warehouse.

I watched him thrash against the restraint that was straining his wrists, the metal clanking ...