Free Shattered: Round Four (Broken Book 4) by Skyla Madi Page A

his feet.
    “Jai, he doesn’t know what he’s saying. He abuses his pain meds.”
    I wave him off. “It’s all right. I’m not going to hurt him. I’m just going to—” I slam my fists into Huss’s stomach. Air is forced from his lungs and he curls over in pain, clenching his torso. “Teach him some manners.”
    Handing me my beer, Ted warps an arm around Huss’s shoulders and shoots a glare in my direction. “Dude, he was in a car accident.”
    I shrug. “I didn’t hit anything important. He’ll be fine in five minutes.”
    “He is not a team player.” Huss coughs out, groaning with the pain of his ribs.
    “Apparently not.” Ted mutters, escorting Huss over to the couch I was sitting on. “Lay your stupid ass down till you catch your breath.”
    I turn away from them and saunter into the kitchen. On the wooden kitchen benches fifteen shots are laid out in various cups and lids and I slip onto a bar stool as Joel pulls his white tee over his head, covering the ink on his torso.
    “Was that really necessary?” He asks, adjusting the fabric around the belt of his pants.
    I ditch the bottle of beer and opt for a shot instead.
    “Absolutely.” I say as I grab the blue lid filled to the brim with clear liquid. Vodka. Its scent is so strong I can taste it before it touches my lips.
    I tip the shot down my throat and glance down at the shiny blue lid in my hand as I inhale sharply. I never did like Vodka.
    “Emily. Finally!” My brother cheers, his mood a drastic change from the previous days. “Have a drink with us.”
    I lift my stare to the hall, where the staircase meets the kitchen, and—holy hell.
    A single sleeved tight, black dress clings to her subtle curves, accentuating the shape of her luscious body.  I glance at the small, rectangular cut outs that run from the top of her hips, up the flanks of her body that expose the milky flesh of her sides, before it comes to a stop underneath her arms. The fabric clings to the soft curves of her body, electrifying every nerve in my system. Throw in some subtle make-up, thin, nude heels, and long, dark hair that’s pinned back...who is this girl? She’s a far cry away from the tired nurse I met weeks ago. The way she looks...she’s fit to drape the arm of a billionaire.
    Which make me wish I hit Huss harder.
    What I did to him wasn’t punishment enough for being so disrespectful to someone like her.
    I should separate the tip of his cock from his shaft and glue it to his face so every time he looks in the mirror he’s reminded of what a dickhead he is.
    “What are you drinking?” Emily asks me, pulling her face into a curious pinch as she steps closer.
    “Everything.” I say, slipping my lid on to the bench.
    For the first time since entering the room she takes one look at me and a visible bout of nausea rolls through her. It controls her features for the briefest second before she catches it and hides it behind a killer fake smile. What is that about?
    “Avoid the small multicolored glasses.” I inform her. “It’s Joel’s homemade concoction and it will have you on your back before we make it out the front door.”
    Joel chuckles as he scoops up his beer and leaves the kitchen, abandoning us with each other.
    God. She looks good. What does she smell like? Fuck. What does she taste like?
    With a defiant smirk and a purposeful kink in her eyebrow, Emily reaches out and wraps her slender fingers around a small, multicolored glass.
    “I suppose I won’t need this to put me on my back...not when I have you to do it for me later.”
    She surveys the liquid before returning it to the bench, opting for a shot of vodka instead.
    If she’s not careful I’ll have her on her back, stomach, knees—fucking hands. I’ll have her any way, every way. I will tear her dress from her tight little body and tie her to the bed with it. I’ll gag her with her own panties and fuck her ass while she wears those skin color shoes. I’ll hit it so good