Page 121 of If Our Hearts Collide

“Don’t hurt him,” she yells from behind me, holding on to my biceps before I deliver another punishing blow. “Please.”

Please?

“Sometimes lessons need to be taught. This idiot deserves to suffer for what he did to you. Throwing himself on you like that…”

“Let’s go. Please.”

There’s that plea again. And just that one word is wreaking havoc on my conscience—something I didn’t even think existed anymore.

I let go of the man, allowing gravity to take over. I want to solidify my point, yet I don’t want Penny to have a front-row seat to my anger. She’s been through too much and has experienced enough trauma tonight.

“She, ah, waa…” he stutters.

“Collins!” Penny squeals. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

My eyes dart to hers, silencing her with what I can only assume is fear from my piercing gaze. “He touched you,” I scoff, as if that should be enough reason for my temper. Why isn’t she begging for me to annihilate him right now, right here?

Using the toe of my shoe, I kick at the fucker, getting him to roll over and look up at me. “There are twenty-seven bones in the human hand. So, if you touch her again, I’ll break all twenty-seven and then rip both of those hands off, just to beat you with them. You dare to look at her again, I’ll use a rusty sling blade to carve out those eyeballs of yours and shove them down yourthroat to choke on. And if you even think of coming within fifty yards of her, I’ll saw through your femur so you’ll never walk again. Do you understand?”

I watch as he throws himself off the ground and scampers off down the street to his car. Smartest thing the asshole has done all evening. I know he’s had his eyes set on Penny. And if he thinks he can just charm his way into her panties, then he obviously doesn’t understand the lengths I go through to keep her safe.

“Was that necessary?” Penny asks, gasping for air and pointing at the guy’s retreating form. He better the hell scurry away before I neuter him. “Was it?” Her voice is louder.

“Yes,” I snarl. Why are we even discussing this? The obvious answer can’t be anything other than yes. Why is she now mad at me? “I spared him his life, Penelope. And that’s something I never do.”

“Why do you care? You don’t even want me. Hell, every guy in that room”—she points behind her toward the coffee shop—“didn’t want me.” Tears pour out of her eyes in a cascading waterfall that I worry will never end. “Did you hear me? No one wants me!”

Oh, they wanted her. Who couldn’t want someone as beautiful and flawless as Penelope Hoffman?

I grab her hand and pull her away from the coffee shop, trying to get space between us and the location where I almost took a man’s life.

Dropping her hand, I rub my hands over the back of my neck.

I need time to cool off.

Even I know I have a temper that needs checked at times. But no matter how mad I get, I’ll never lay a hand on Penny Hoffman. Unless, of course…

Dammit.

I need to get my head on straight.

But it’s her fucking sniffles and her whimpering that are going to destroy all the self-control I’ve been trying so hard to maintain.

I glance over at her.

She looks so sad—lost.

I take a step closer, reaching up my thumbs to trail across her lips. “I want to wipe that disgusting guy’s memory from your lips and make it so that the only thing on your mind is me.”

“Then do it,” she challenges.

It takes just a few seconds to weigh the consequences.

“I’ll take you home, Pen,” I say with finality.

I should take you home.

I’ve already exposed my hand to her tonight and my true feelings on the matter. She wanted me to kiss her at the apartment gym, but what she didn’t realize is that I wanted to do so much more with her.

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