Tanya’s blood was boiling by now. She was tired of him disregarding her while degrading her as a person. When she wanted to reply, Dirk’s hand was on her arm, squeezing her and she gave him a warning look.
“Not now,” he mouthed.
“When?” she shot back, aggravated.
“Can I help you, sweetie?” Patrick’s syrupy voice carried a false tone as his eyes flashed in amused anger. She could strangle him by now, but Dirk kept her back as she moved to do this man some serious physical harm.
“Fuck off!” she hissed instead, but he ignored her by turning his back on her and marched towards the gate.
She followed him reluctantly, Dirk right behind her. She would love to see his face once he was stripped from that smugness of his. She would love every minute of him hitting the dirt; she would make sure he was eating it as well. Without making it too obvious she looked around, although the view was limited with the rocky walls.