At her.
That’s when I lose it.
I don’t even remember deciding to move. My shoulder slams into his chest, knocking him back a step, my arm coming up hard between him and Faith.
“You don’t touch her,” I growl.
Evan stumbles, catches himself, and then swings.
It’s sloppy. Furious. All heat and no control.
I take the hit on my jaw, stars bursting behind my eyes, pain detonating sharp and bright, but it only fuels me. I drive forward, fist snapping out on instinct, connecting with his cheekbone with a solid crack that echoes down the street.
Evan reels, shock flashing across his face, then rage.
“You bastard,” he snarls and charges.
We collide, bodies slamming together, hands fisting in jackets, shoes scraping against pavement. The world narrows to breath and muscle and the singular goal of keeping him away from Faith.
He throws another punch. I block it, feel the impact rattle up my arm, then drive my elbow into his ribs. He grunts, folds slightly, but claws at my jacket.
I hear Faith scream my name.
I hear a voice cut through the noise.
“That’s enough.”
Boone.
Suddenly, Evan is ripped backward.
Boone’s hands clamp onto his shoulders, yanking him away with a force that makes Evan stumble. At the same time, Nash grabs me, hauling me back just as hard.
“Dallas!” Nash snaps. “That’s enough!”
I fight it for half a second, pure instinct, then register Faith again, standing there, shaking but upright, eyes locked on me.
I stop.
Clay steps in between us without a word, broad and immovable, his presence a wall Evan can’t get past. Evan strains against Boone’s grip, spitting fury, face flushed and wild.
“You don’t know who you’re messing with!” Evan shouts. “This isn’t your place?—”
Boone leans in close. “Back off. Now.”
Evan laughs, breathless and unhinged. “You think a few cowboys scare me?”
Nash lets out a humorless huff. “Buddy, you should be real glad we showed up when we did.”
I wipe blood from my lip with the back of my hand, eyes never leaving Evan.
Then William Ross cuts through the air.
“What is going on here?”
I don’t have to turn around to know who it is.
He struts out of the building, the street, the city itself. Tailored suit, cold eyes, posture rigid with authority. He assesses the scene instantly: Faith behind me. Evan bristling. My brothers spaced out around us, a wall he didn’t see coming.
