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Koa freezes, and then drops me—fucking drops me—and my head smacks against the concrete. Stars wink in and out behind my eyes, and the force of adrenaline paired with being thrown around makes my stomach pitch violently.
Voices rise with the sound of quick, heavy steps as I roll to my side and empty the contents of my stomach.
“Oh my god, Penelope.” My sister whispers comforts as her hands frantically rove my body. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for leaving you with him.”
“Is she okay?” Logan asks, sheer terror coating the question as he sweeps my hair back from my face.
Behind me, I hear shoes scuffing against the pavement and grunts followed by heavy thuds.
When Carrie touches the front of my unzipped shorts, her voice breaks. “Logan…”
“That son of a bitch is a dead man.”
He hesitates a second longer, gliding his hand over my head, and then he’s gone. I want to sob at the absence of his touch, but my raw throat can barely manage a pitiful groan.
“Koa,” Carrie cries, followed by a piercing, “Stop.”
Debris on the sidewalk digs into my hip and legs, but through the pain spiking at my temple, I roll and blink my eyes open. Carrie pulls my upper body into her lap as we watch all three men in a blur of commotion.
Several on-lookers gasp as Koa’s arms wind around Logan’s neck from behind. I try to sit, but Carrie curls her fingers, holding me down.
Declan lands an elbow to Koa’s ribs, narrowly avoiding a swinging fist, and the throbbing inside my skull worsens.
My eyes grow so heavy that I’m forced to blink, and when I open them again, Logan’s straddling Koa’s chest, raining punches across his face.
“You goddamn piece of shit,” he spats as Koa bucks his legs and thrashes his head.
Logan holds him down, relentless in his pursuit of retribution, and shadows contour the deadly scowl on his face as his shoulders bunch and flex with every meaty crunch of knuckles against blood-soaked skin.
I expect my do-gooder sister to scream at him to stop, but she watches with grim acceptance. And I might share that same sentiment if it weren’t for the sobering fear I have of Silas finding out about this.
Carrie’s head whips around as sirens blare in the distance. “Guys, we gotta go!”
My head throbs in time with my heart when Declan finally manages to yank a snarling Logan off Koa’s limp body.
Thrashing like a wild animal, and his hands coated in blood, he’s hauled backward. He beats at the arms Declan has wound across his chest, growling, “Get off me. Get the fuck off me.”
When he breaks free of his friend’s hold, he straightens the front of his shirt with wide, savage eyes. The anger marring his features has nothing on the anguish in his shaking voice. “He touched her.”
“I know.” More gently, Declan says, “But if you don’t stop now, you’re going to kill him.” His voice remains eerily calm when he glances at me and Carrie. “Someone called the cops, and we need to get Penelope out of here now.”
Slowly, Logan blinks away the bloodlust before turning that tormented gaze to me.
He spits at Koa’s unconscious form, ignoring Declan and my sister’s protests when his bloodied hands reach for me.
I whine when he scoops my sore body off the ground and cradles me to his chest.
“I’m sorry, Pen.” He’s still gasping for air as he brings his sweat-damp forehead to mine, murmuring tenderly, “I should have been here sooner. I-I should have never let you go.”
“Not your fault,” I say, struggling to string words together. “I tried… to make him… stop.”
“You did good. You did so good.” That raw adoration nearly guts me entirely, springing tears to my eyes with the praise that follows. “I’m proud of you.”
At some point, he ditched his suit jacket, and I rub my face into his silk shirt.
“I smell like puke.”
“Shh,” he whispers. “It’s okay.”
