Page 120 of If Our Hearts Collide

Relief floods through me that Penny is at least talking and not slipping into the dark hole she buried herself in most of last year.

My mind goes through my list of potential ways to make this look like an accident if he lays one more fucking finger on Penelope Hoffman—who is my responsibility to protect.

Just one more finger…

And then I’ll end him.

For fun, I’ll make him bleed slowly too. I know just how to prolong the inevitable if it means righting some wrongs. And this fucker made an unforgivable mistake.

That’s how irate I am.

I can’t believe he forced himself on her. She was not enjoying that at all.

I’d make her enjoy the feeling of being ravished—not abused.

Why can’t pricks understand there is a difference between being dominant and being abusive? Every male wants to pretendhe’s an alpha, when in fact most are just insecure assholes who treat women as if they are expendable.

Penelope Josephine Hoffman is not replaceable.

She’s a one-of-a-kind diamond in a mine of dull rocks.

My mood has been volatile all evening. And this… This is sending me over the edge, and if the abyss has this idiot’s bones decaying at the bottom of it, I’ll follow him down just to spit on his bloody grave.

He fucking touched her.

I should have been here sooner. Regret has already seeped into the shallow cracks of my dark soul. But I’m here now. And I will finish this fucker no matter how much cleanup it’ll take in the aftermath.

Stumbling about on the sidewalk, the asshole bares his teeth toward me. “What was that for?”

“Never lay a finger on her again. Never look at her. Never come near her. Do you understand?”

Not saying a word, he approaches me for another round.

Let the fun begin…

I guide Penny behind me, as I prepare myself to unleash my wrath onto his face.

The kiss thief makes the first move, sending his fist barreling through the air. I catch it and drive it down toward the ground, as I punch right underneath his armpit into the ribs.

I hear a crack—and it’s not my knuckles.

He crumbles to the sidewalk, weeping.

I pivot to check on a trembling Penny who is now tucked into a ball on the cement beneath her hugged arms.

But then in my periphery, the spud gets up and grabs for my knees, which I dodge.

Primal rage courses through me, as I grip the kiss thief’s neck, dragging him up to come face-to-face with what he decided to set into motion.

“Straighten your spine,” I hiss, “and face your demons like a man.”

“Collins!”

My head feels like it’s in a tunnel, and the only light at the end is justice for Penny.

“COLLINS!”

It’s her voice. Her sweet, innocent voice…

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