Page 104 of Luck of the Draw

The guy shoved Connor. “Back off, asshole. This is between me and her.”

Connor took a looming step toward him, shoved him back, and got in his face. “Ain’t nothing between you and her. This is between you and me, and I’m gonna fuck you up if you don’t get the hell out of here.”

Luke was suddenly there too, strutting around the perimeter of the confrontation like an overly-eager police dog just waiting for the word. “Yeah, and if you don’t get the fuck out of here, it’s about to be between you, him, me, this fuckin’ Marine,” he crowed, sticking his thumb out at Brennan, “and the fuckin’ Navy SEAL that’s on his way over here.”

The guy ignored Luke and stepped around Connor, getting in Skye’s ear just as Brennan managed to reach her. “Skye, you wanna explain yourself to these cavemen, or am I gonna have to?”

Brennan held her waist, pulling her away and pushing her to stand behind him, and this was him.

This was the fucking guy.

This was the mother fucker who’d put all the bruises on her.

This was the piece of shit she’d been running from.

This was the asshole who’d all but fucking destroyed her and made her feel like her only escape was to disappear forever.

Brennan had promised himself, had sworn to the nameless god he barely believed in, he’d never resort to violence again as long as he lived. But as that piece of shit continued to bark at her, a numb trance overtook his mind, and the long-suppressed, yet deeply-ingrained instinct simmered in his veins until it combusted.

Connor gripped the back of the guy’s collar as he lunged at Skye like a chained-up junkyard dog, barking obscenities and degrading names, and Brennan took a step toward him. He stared at him for two seconds before pulling his fist back and then nailing the guy with a throat-punch that was almost alarmingly effortless.

The guy tumbled to the concrete and clutched his neck while he coughed and hacked and struggled to breathe. Brennan stood in front of Skye, and Connor postured as if ready to knock him back down if he tried anything.

Luke leaned down toward the guy, laughing loudly and abrasively. “Yeah, that fuckin’ hurt didn’t it, little man? You havin’ a little trouble catching your breath, bruh?” He kept laughing, rubbing his hands together and bobbing his head to a silent beat. “Don’t fuck with the bull if you don’t want the horns, you little pissant mother fucker.”

“This ain’t over, Skye,” the piece of shit wheezed as he stood up, coughing a few more times. “I fucking own you, you worthless slut, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get your ugly ass back home where you belong.”

As soon as the guy was standing up straight, Luke sucker-punched him, sending him stumbling backward off the curb. “Watch your fuckin’ mouth, douchebag. If any of us wanted to hear from an asshole, we’d fucking fart.”

“I’m not fucking around, Skye.” The asshole glared at her as he crossed the street. “There’s nowhere around here you can hide forever, and if you try to run again, I’ll hunt your ass down.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, fuck off.” Luke shooed him. “Walk away, pussy. Just keep on walking.”

The guy disappeared around a corner at the end of the street.

When he was out of sight, Brennan turned to Skye, who was so white she nearly blended in with the blinding sunlight all around them. She didn’t even look at him. She looked as numb and disconnected as he felt.

He attempted to shake himself out of his small trance and took a step closer to her. “Sweetheart,” he said, leaning toward her and attempting to catch her gaze. “Are you okay?”

Her pupils were constricted to tiny black specks amidst a sea of pale blue, and her eyes were wide. She didn’t even acknowledge him and simply stood there, trembling like a leaf.

“Skye,” Brennan tried again. His pulse was thumping so loud in his ears that he could barely hear his own voice. His face was cold, and he guessed he was as pale as she was. “Look at me, baby girl.”

She didn’t. She just stood stock still, and then the cacophony of Liza, Frankie, and Carson joined them. They were hollering and asking questions and talking all at once, and Liza wrapped her arms around Skye.

“Oh my God,” Liza choked out through a terrified sob. “Who the hell was that? What the hell is going on? Did he hurt you? Are you okay?”

Skye still didn’t say anything and didn’t acknowledge any of them. Her teeth began chattering. It was eighty-nine degrees and sunny.

“You have a chill,” Liza said. “Let’s go back to the restaurant and get you some water.” She cut her eyes at Brennan and started walking Skye back up the sidewalk. “B., pull yourself together and help me help her.”

Skye managed to take two steps with Liza before her knees buckled, and they both struggled to stay upright. Connor swept in to take Skye from her. He hoisted her off the ground, scooping her up and cradling her in his arms, and Skye’s head went limp against his shoulder.

A few concerned bystanders had approached them. Brennan was still numb to his core, save for the throb in his fist from punching the asshole, who he knew had punched Skye on numerous occasions. Who said things to her that indicated he’d done way worse. Who did it all in the middle of a public square, as if he weren’t the least bit ashamed of treating someone that way.

As if he wereproudof it.

“Riley!” Connor barked, turning to Brennan and causing one of Skye’s arms to fall limply below her while he continued to cradle her. Brennan should’ve been the one holding her. But he’d promised not to touch her because that asshole had done such unspeakable things to her that Skye never wanted anyone to touch her again. “Get out of your goddamned head and call a goddamned cab!”

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