Page 160 of If Our Hearts Collide

“I didn’t know you guys were?—”

“I’m sure someone will gladly step in and take over where I left off if that’s what your body still needs. Perhaps…”

She waves a hand at me, a blush hitting her cheeks. “No worries.”

I know the girl is making assumptions about Penny and me, but that isn’t anything I can control or have the patience for right now to set her straight.

With only one mission in mind, I take off into a jog, exit the room, and then weave through clusters of people. It’s getting pretty late, and the club goes from mild to wild rather quickly, thanks to alcohol and bad decision-making skills. I take twosteps at a time on the descent, propelling myself forward toward the locker room to grab my belongings.

How did I not see this coming? Seriously. This could have all been avoided if I had my head on straight and not trying to pawn Penny off on someone else while I used my own needs as a distraction to cope. I’m more disciplined than this, and yet I have no one to blame other than myself.

When the warm summer air hits my face as I exit out through the main doors, I scan the premises in hopes I can find Penny. Then I hear it—her scream.

Not having any time to retrieve my gun from my car, I take off running toward the panicked sound of Penny’s high-pitched voice.

“Let me go!”

I will carve the skin off anyone who dares to hurt her.

My calves burn as I charge toward her attacker, feeling the air flying in and out of my lungs as I pick up the pace.

When I make it to the scene, I stop dead in my tracks. Chris is dodging blows coming from Penny’s fists like he’s a blow-up punching bag, while he squeals like a little baby.

Granted, she’s extra violent tonight.

Sheesh.

I made her this way. It’s me who set her into a feral tailspin as she distanced herself far away from me.

She’s repulsed by me and who could blame her?

Turning to shoulder some of the force, my hired henchman looks to be stressed and shocked over her outburst.

Not even war prepared him for anything like Penelope Hoffman.

Poor guy.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Says every freaking kidnapper”—she smacks him with every spoken word—“that has ever existed.”

SMACK.

Shit, she can be fiery.

“I mean it.”

SMACK.

“I mean it too, you brute!”

“Owww, you have heels on! Stop!”

Chris’s eyes connect with mine, silently begging me to bail him out of this shitstorm, as he tries to keep Penny off of him. He better the hell not let her hurt herself. Then he’ll be sporting more than just bloody shins and some bruises.

That’s the thing though with men like Chris. They are trained on how to deliver pain, not prevent someone from getting hurt while attacking them.

“Penny, I hired Chris,” I call out, trying to catch her attention before she gives him a broken nose.

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