Racing The Beast (Dirt Track Dogs #2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

the pain in her broken leg. “None of you touch me. Understand?”
    She looked around the room. Beast and a man with short dark hair stood looking at her in horror.
    “Yeah, shit,” the man she’d attacked—Surge—straightened, wincing in pain. “I understand. No touching. Got it. Can I breathe around you? Is that okay?”
    Punk looked around again. None of them were coming at her. Fuck on a beach, she’d overreacted. They’d brought her into their home to help her, and she’d beat the shit out of one of them. But… they had to keep their hands to themselves. They had to… had to… she had to teach them the boundaries.
    Beast inched closer. “It’s okay,” he said, keeping his voice low. As if he was talking to a wounded animal. He bent, picking up her crutches and handed them to her.
    She took them and met his eyes, pleading with him to understand. She needed someone to just… get it. I’m sorry .
    He grinned. Grinned . “Damn, Surge. When the lady says she doesn’t need help, she fucking means it.”
    The man standing by the couch laughed. Then laughed some more. He grabbed his belly and doubled over, hooting and hollering and pointing at Surge. “You got your ass kicked by a hu—” He shook his head. “By a gir—” He stopped again, laughing some more. “By a chick with one bad leg.”
    Surge surprised her by chuckling.
    Punk took a deep shaky breath. “In his defense…” She cleared her throat to get rid of the shaking in her voice. “He didn’t exactly fight back.”
    Surge nodded. “Yeah. What she said.”
    The door opened and a new man walked in. Punk recognized him too. How could she forget a face like his? Half of it was mottled in severe scars. He was like Two Face from Batman, except not as gruesome. In fact, the one side of his face was take-your-breath-away handsome.
    This was Ella’s uncle. Weird to think of him like that since they were about the same age.
    He took in the scene and his one eyebrow raised. “Anything I should know about?”
    “Yes,” Beast said. “This is Punk, and she will kick your ass if you touch her without her consent.”
    She nodded. He’d summed it up correctly.
    “Punk, this is Blister. And that bastard over there is Diz.” The guy by the couch gave her a lazy salute. “And this of course, is Surge. He’s um…” Beast ran his hand over his jaw. “He’s the one throwing you the party tonight. Him and Annie.”
    “Fuck, Beast. That was a surprise!” Diz growled, throwing a pillow at Beast’s head.
    “Sorry, but I don’t think she likes surprises.” He looked at her. “Just a hunch, but am I right?”
    Punk nodded. “What is this party?”
    “A welcome home party. Duh,” Surge said.
    “But I’m not even at home.”
    He sighed, wiping more blood from his nose. “Fiiiiiine. Call it a happy hospital release party then.”
    “I don’t need a party,” she argued.
    “Well, who the hell ever needs a party? No one, that’s who. Parties aren’t like, necessities. That doesn’t mean we give up havin’ them, now does it?”
    She squinted at him. “You’re weird.”
    “So are you.”
    There was truth in that.
    Punk leaned on her crutches. The pain radiating from her leg was sharp. She’d fucked it up, no doubt, with her ridiculous friendly fire. Damn it, she’d have to call the doctor. But not tonight. Tonight, she needed to chill the fuck out. Maybe she actually did need a party.

Chapter Four
    Beast stared at his mate, keeping his face from revealing the emotion that created a storm inside him. Something was wrong with Punk. The way she’d reacted at the hospital when he’d touched her face, and what she’d just done to Surge. Something bad had happened to her in the past, and she’d turned her fear into fighting.
    Except she was fighting the wrong thing. No one here would hurt her.
    Maybe the accident had brought back bad memories. Or maybe she was always this distrusting. Whatever the case, it wasn’t good for her and it