A Very Russian Christmas by Roxie Rivera Page B

it infuriated him.
    “Yeah? Well you’re a frigid fucking bitch!” A second later, her shiny metallic clutch was launched out of the vehicle and whacked her right in the face. “Whore!”
    Holly cried out in pain and fell to her knees on the brittle, cold grass.
    Seeing red, Kostya stormed to the driver’s side door and jerked it open. The driver, a blond in his early thirties gaped up at him in shock. Kostya reached down, unlatched the asshole’s seatbelt and hauled him right out of the driver’s seat. Slamming her date against the car, he used his larger body to trap the man in place.
    Don’t kill him. Not in front of Holly. Don’t let her see the monster inside you.
    Maintaining the thinnest hold on the vicious beast within him, Kostya decided not to use the knife sheathed against his boot or the pistol holstered under his jacket. There were other ways of hurting a man. Much, much more painful ways…
    He gripped the dirty bastard’s balls in a tight clench. The man let loose a pitiful whine. “Did you just call my friend a whore?” The man whimpered as Kostya squeezed harder. “Huh?”
    “I-I-I,” the man stammered unintelligibly.
    He knocked into the asshole with his shoulder. “Man the fuck up and answer me!”
    “I didn’t mean it.” The bastard actually looked like he was about to start crying. Revulsion raced through Kostya. Weak. Pathetic. Loser.
    Movement near the hood of the car filtered through his hazy red vision. Holding her clutch in both hands, Holly stared on with wide eyes. Streaks of mascara ran down her face. The sight of her ripped dress made him want to crush this bastard’s balls. “Kostya?”
    Pushing his forearm against the man’s throat, Kostya sucked in a steadying breath. He held Holly’s terrified gaze. “Did he hit you?”
    She quickly shook her head, those long blonde tresses swishing around her shoulders. “No. I mean—not until he threw this at me.” She gingerly rubbed her reddened nose and scratched cheek.
    The urge to beat the man bloody was strong. Not wanting to make such a big mess in her front yard, he decided to give the fucker a taste of his own medicine. Eyeing her clutch, he ordered. “Bring it to me, Holly.”
    She swallowed nervously before walking toward him. He snatched the clutch from her hand, took a quick step back and smacked the bastard right across the face with it. With a backhand movement, he slapped the man again, making sure to catch the metal closure against her date’s skin. If Holly was going to bleed, so was this loser.
    “Oh my god!” Holly gasped with shock, and the sniveling little shit in front of him started to sob hysterically.
    “Did you like that?”
    “N-n-no!” The guy cringed and lifted his shoulders in a bracing move, as if he expected to be hit again.
    Kostya considered it but didn’t think he could keep his bloodthirsty instincts in check much longer. “Do you think she enjoyed being hit with it?”
    “No.”
    “Maybe I should follow you home, tear your clothes and call you names in your front yard. Would you like that?”
    “No. Please!”
    Disgusted by the pathetic excuse for a man in front of him, he released his hold and shoved the man against his vehicle. “Get the fuck out of here. Now .” Stepping close, he hissed, “If I ever find out that you so much as look at Holly again, I’ll fucking come for you.”
    The guy’s panicked gaze flitted along the tattoos exposed on Kostya’s neck. He was stupid, but he wasn’t that stupid. “I won’t. She’ll never see me again.”
    “I’m holding you to that.” He pushed the man into the front seat. “Go.”
    Shaking and crying, the asshole shut his door. Kostya grabbed Holly’s hand and dragged her safely behind him as her date from hell punched the gas and spun his tires. He tore down their street and disappeared.
    Concerned for her, Kostya pivoted quickly, cupped her face and tilted back her head. He gazed at the injury. “We have to put ice on