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I was wild, lost to keeping Mark off me, screaming. My arms tugged at the restraints, and I kicked out at anything, bucking to keep him away from me. I heard shouting, felt his hands leave me, but then they returned.
“Get off me!” I flailed and kicked out.
“Sam,” a man called, not Mark. “Sam! Stop. It’s Mac.”
Mac? I froze, opened my eyes, blinked, but everything was blurry.
“Mac?” I said. In my struggle my glasses had come off, and they were gently set back on my face. The black blob that had been before me focused into Mac. “Oh God, Mac,” I cried. “Mark’s here. He’s going to hurt me.”
“No, he won’t hurt you ever again,” Mac vowed.
I lifted my head from the pillow, saw Hardin looming over Mark, who was pushing off the floor. His nose was bleeding profusely, dripping onto his dress shirt. Hardin’s fists were clenched, and the look on his face scared me.
“You kidnapped Sam and were going to rape her,” Hardin snarled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“She opened her legs for you and Mac but not me. Jesus, he’s a fucking convict,” Mark said.
“So you slashed her tire.”
Mark slowly shook his head. “Jesus, my brother can’t even keep things straight. That’s right, you’re just a loser mechanic.”
Hardin’s eyes widened at the words, as if he’d never heard things like this before from Mark.
“I had the tire slashed so she’d come to me. I’d calm her fears… in bed.”
“That didn’t work for you, did it?” Hardin snapped.
Mark shook his head, used his sleeve to wipe the blood from his face. “It drove her to the wrong person.”
“Me,” Mac said.
I was beginning to see the depths of Mark’s insanity, felt the tug of the restraints on my wrists. The confinement made me panic. “Mac. Undo my hands, please,” I sobbed, tugging my wrists, unable to handle it a second longer.
Mac whipped around to face me, pulled a switchblade from his pocket, flicked it open. “Stay still.”
With two deft swipes, I was free, the rope falling away.
I popped up and launched myself at Mac. He wrapped me in his arms, held me close.
God, he smelled good, like the soap in his shower, and felt hard and real.
I looked at Hardin. He’d watched as Mac freed me, but returned his focus to his brother. “So you fucked with her apartment.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“You had someone do it,” Hardin clarified. “And when we blew your chances with Sarah, the waitress…”
Mark shrugged, used a hand to try and push up off the floor. With his boot, Hardin shoved Mark back down. He grunted as he fell.
“You fucked with my sure thing; I fuck with yours.” Mark grinned, his teeth stained red with blood. “I fuck yours.”
Nix came into the room, reached down and grabbed Mark’s arm, tugged him to his feet, then put him in handcuffs. I had a feeling he’d been just outside the room, listening. He pushed Mark out into the hall, and I heard Mark’s voice swearing the whole time as Nix calmly read him his Miranda rights.
Mac looked down at me, his gaze roving over my face, my hair, my body. “Are you all right?”
“I was hit on the head, but it’s not bad,” I replied, lifting my hand to where I could feel a lump. “He didn’t… he didn’t get the chance to hurt me. You got here in time.”
Mac exhaled loudly, and I felt the tension leave his body.
