Disgraced Cowboys (Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 3) [Siren Publishing Ménage Amour] Read Online Free PDF Page A

sight of his tense muscles and piercing eyes, which were glowing like sun fire. He wasn’t currently part of the active defense force, however. Things weren’t going well for him at all.
    Two men had caught either arm and were holding him firmly between them while a third—the man whose lap dance Marcus had interrupted—reared back with his fist. She flinched when it connected with his jaw, the force of the blow snapping his head sideways. The glare Marcus shot when he straightened was weighted with deadly intent, and restrained or not, he looked ferocious enough to tear the entire bar down around him. Brandi wondered why the idiot in the suit didn’t just turn and run while he had the chance.
    As it happened, that would have been the smart thing to do.
    With one vicious yank, Marcus shrugged off both men holding him as though they weighed nothing. They fell away in comical fashion, reminding Brandi of the clown-shaped punching balloon she’d had as a child. As she gripped the curtains tightly, she watched Marcus turn his sights on the suit guy, and her stomach fell.
    “Shit,” she whispered, gaping at the inhuman red tinge shimmering around the golden irises.
    Marcus flashed out without warning. The swing connected with the jaw before the other man even registered Marcus had thrown the punch, and it took him off his feet. She gaped in shock as he landed in a pile of already overturned tables. Sure, she’d kick-shoved a drunk and made him stumble back into a table, but this wasn’t remotely similar. Marcus’s punch had literally sent the man soaring through the air.
    “An eye for an eye, you said,” Marcus told his barely conscious attacker. “Afraid my eye packs a whole lot more wallop.”
    The two accomplices scrambled to their feet and did what the suit guy should have—they ran. Marcus was turning her direction now, and her already pounding pulse raced as she waited for him to make eye contact. She waited for the flip in her stomach that she knew would happen when he did.
    Just before his gaze found hers, his attention was diverted. The cowboy she’d seen Marcus with at the bar took hold of his arm and said something she couldn’t hear. Two others walked up whose presence seemed to surprise him. They spoke in hushed, urgent tones. Every one of them had those eerie, glowing eyes, though Marcus’s glowed brighter than any. His bar mate cocked his head toward the rear exit, and with a curt nod, Marcus turned on a boot heel and led the way.
    She watched their retreating backs, fisting the drapes tighter to try and stop herself from what she wanted to do next. She shouldn’t, she knew. She should let it go. But something told her to listen to her instinct, and as the men filed out the back, she cussed under her breath and followed.
    The back alley lacked even the grandeur of the roughly graveled front parking lot. Reserved for trash and the occasional ousting of rowdy drunks, the dirt alley featured little more than a Dumpster, a couple employee vehicles, and a span of dense woods to the rear. Moonlight shone down fiercely, negating the one anemic floodlight. Beneath the ethereal lunar glow, the four cowboys stood in a loose circle, talking.
    Lucky for her, she’d managed to catch the door before it closed behind them. She’d been able to slip out and hide behind the Dumpster without being heard. The night air bit into her bikini-clad skin, but she ignored the chill and crouched among a scattered pile of cigarette butts with a hand against the rusted metal Dumpster to steady herself. This was where the smokers took their breaks, no doubt. She was stepping on something, and shifted her foot off a cheap lighter someone had dropped.
    Wrinkling her nose against the stench of garbage, she turned her attention to following the weird conversation.
    “Are you crazy?” one of the men was saying to Marcus, who was indirectly facing her. “You’ll have him at all our throats, bringin’ attention to yourself like