“Both of you assho—” he started.
I didn’t hear the rest because the guy claiming to be her stepbrother moved.
He surged straight for Taryn, closing the distance faster than he should have been able to, his hand cutting through the space between us as if I weren’t even there.
I moved at the same time, turning with him, shifting her weight and pulling her just out of reach by inches, my body already stepping into his path before he could correct.
I moved to Ben. Not wanting to give Taryn up, but knowing this guy needed his ass kicked.
“Take her.” The words came out sharp as I shoved her toward him, trusting he would keep her safe.
He was her father after all, even if I thought he was shit at it.
I hit the dick before he even knew I was there. My fist connected with his jaw, a solid crack that should have dropped him or at least slowed him down.
It didn’t.
His head snapped to the side, blood splitting his lip instantly, a thin line of red trailing down his chin as he turned back toward me with a look that wasn’t surprised, or shaken—just pissed.
He hit back just as fast, his fist cutting across my mouth with enough force to split my lip open on impact, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth as my head snapped sideways.
It barely registered. This fucking guy was going to find out just who the fuck he was messing with.
I smiled, dragging my thumb across my mouth and looking at the blood, then winked at him.
He scowled, and we moved again. Faster this time, both of us closing the distance like neither of us had any intention of letting the other breathe, our shoulders colliding hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs before I forced it back in and shoved into him harder.
I hated to admit it, but I was enjoying pushing my body to the limit, finding out what I was capable of since waking from the fever.
He gave just enough to regain his footing, then came right back at me, grabbing my shirt and slamming me into the side ofthe porch with enough force to rattle the frame and send a sharp flare of pain through my back.
I answered without thinking, driving my forearm into his throat just long enough to break his hold before he twisted out of it. His movements were too fast, too precise for someone who wasn’t as experienced in fighting as I was.
I swung again, aiming lower this time, catching him across the ribs with enough force to feel the impact travel through my arm, but instead of folding, he absorbed it, shifting with it like he already knew how to take the hit.
We slammed into the railing together, the wood cracking under our combined force as it splintered and gave way, both of us going down hard and rolling across the porch in a tangle of movement that didn’t slow for more than a second.
Ben backed out of the way, “That’s fucking enough!”
Neither of us listened.
He came up first, but only seconds before me. Catching me across the cheek this time, snapping my head back as more blood filled my mouth.
I returned the hit, harder, driving my fist into his jaw again, feeling something give slightly under the impact as his head jerked sideways, more blood spraying this time as his lip split further.
It still didn’t stop him. At this point, I don’t think either of us could.
Every movement after that came faster, sharper, and cleaner, like the space between thought and action had been stripped away completely, leaving nothing but instinct and force behind.
He adjusted to everything I threw at him, matching the speed, matching the strength, his body moving like it already understood mine, like it didn’t need time to figure anything out.
That’s when it clicked.
This wasn’t just some guy who got lucky and managed to keep up with me. This had to be someone who survived the fever as I had.
I hit him again, with everything I had, pushing it, testing it, and he answered me without hesitation, the same force, same precision, and the same lack of restraint.
That’s when I knew I was right.
