Page 78 of Scars of Fate

He cursed and struck her across the face.

Something inside me broke.

Not bent.

Not cracked.

Broke.

I fired once.

The man holding the hood collapsed.

The other spun Wynn in front of him and pressed a pistol against her temple.

“Drop the weapon!”

I stopped.

My rifle remained trained on his head.

He dragged Wynn backward.

Her emerald-green eyes locked on mine.

Fear lived there now.

But beneath it, trust.

She believed I could save her.

The man tightened his grip.

“I said drop it!”

I slowly lowered my rifle.

“Lucas, no,” Wynn whispered.

The pistol dug harder against her temple.

“On the ground!”

I bent my knees.

My rifle moved toward the dirt.

The man smiled.

He thought he’d won.

He didn’t know Wynn.

And he sure as hell didn’t know me.

Her gaze shifted toward my left hand.

Once.