Hard Core (Hard As Nails Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

waitress again, and dreading it. I’d had such an intense reaction to seeing her, and while I’d wanted to go with it, chat her up, get to know her better, I’d reminded myself she was a waitress in one of King’s strip clubs. That meant chances were, despite her air of class and innocence, she was a prostitute. Didn’t matter. I looked for her. Didn’t see her. Looked again. That’s when I spotted a tall blonde man in a suit dragging her by her hair out the back doors.
    I rush into action, barreling down the hallway and through the door, and I’m on them before they even see me coming. I grab the brown-haired man, who looks like he’s actually trying to talk some sense into his friend, and yank him backward.
    Swiftly, I throw a punch at the other man. He ducks out of the way and pushes the girl straight into my arms, as if she’s some sort of shield.
    I blink. For the briefest moment, we stare at each other, this dark-haired angel who’d stolen my attention like thunder on a cloudy night. When I see the fear in her eyes, I automatically try to reassure her. “It’s okay. I—”
    And now it is I who am taken off guard. The man throws a punch my way, landing a blow with a thwack against the top of my head. The girl recoils, creating the opening I need. I gently push her aside and she braces herself against the wall while I maneuver my body close enough to the man so that when I throw my knee upward, it connects with his stomach. His entire body hunches over and I kick my knee upward again, smashing his face against my leg.
    I enjoy the way he stumbles backward, his expression a mix of shock and horror. In his eyes, I see how wasted he is. I don’t give a shit.
    “Don’t you ever put your hands on a woman.” I steady him with one hand, and land a forceful punch square against his nose.
    He stumbles and trips over one foot, his drunk body giving out beneath him as he lands on the ground. He’s too weak—too drunk—to stand back up, much less fight back, but I’m not finished. Not even close.
    I bend over and grab him by his shirt, then punch him several more times.
    “Stop. Please!”
    I hit him again.
    When I feel tugging on my arm, however, I pause and glance over my shoulder.
    The dark-haired angel has her hands wrapped around my bicep and she’s trying to pull me away. “Please don’t hit him anymore. He’s down. Please.”
    I glance at the man I’m holding up, and his face is bloody, his body limp. I look for his friend, but don’t see him.
    “He ran off,” she says. “Now, please. Let him go.”
    Without another word, I let the man go, enjoying the groan he lets out when he hits the ground.
    “Thank you,” she says, her voice husky, sexy even. “I need to find Walt and tell him what’s happened.” She starts to walk away, but then she twists on her ankle and stumbles sideways against the wall. The painful grimace on her face speaks volumes—she’s in pain.
    “Let me take a look,” I say gruffly. I crouch down, prodding at Angel’s ankle.
    She groans and shifts her weight so that she stands on her good foot, leveraging her weight against my strong body. “Just… a little sore.”
    “I think we should get you to the hospital.”
    “That’s really not necessary,” she protests, wincing as she tries to stand on her own. “I’m going to be just fine. Besides, I need to deal with Walt.”
    “Walt can wait. I’m Axel. What’s your name?”
    “Alyssa.”
    “Alyssa, you got a car?”
    She nods.
    “Good. Because I’ve only got a bike.”
    I sweep her into my arms, and she gasps, but settles in and wraps her arms lightly around my neck. “What about him?” she says, her eyes on the blonde who is currently curled into a fetal position on the ground.
    “Who gives a fuck,” I say, and stride around the building.
    For several seconds, she’s quiet and I feel her gaze on me.
    “Look, I don’t want to give you the wrong impression about me,” she finally says.
    I glance down