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Maverick! Hope burns past the fear as he grabs a knife from the magnetic strip beneath his bar top.

“Because I’m going to tear you apart.”

He starts forward, but Darren rushes him first, dropping his shoulder and hitting Maverick in the gut.

The two men fall backward, and a table splinters.

Vision wavering, blood pumping, I retrieve my phone from my pocket and tap Anastasia’s number.

“It’s about time, girl⁠—”

“Help!” I scream into the line. “Help! We’re at the bar!”

Still weak from whatever he was injected with, Maverick’s movements are slow as he faces off with Darren. I search for something—anything I can use to help, and spot a second knife stuck to the magnetic knife block mounted just beneath the bar.

My hand closes around the handle, and I step around the bar, my only focus on Maverick. I have to help him.

“She is mine,” Darren growls at Maverick. “And I’m going to make you wish you’d have stayed on the floor.”

“Come on, then,” Maverick taunts. “You’re going to have to kill me because that’s the only way you’re getting her out of this bar.”

“Not a problem.” Darren rushes forward, but Maverick moves out of the way, lifting a chair and slamming it into Darren as he runs past.

Darren falls backward and hits the ground, but the fight has taken its toll on Maverick, who is still reeling from whatever he was injected with. He stumbles. But the ferocity on his face never wavers.

I rush forward as Darren gets to his feet, his knife in hand.

Maverick faces off with him—a blade in his hand, too.

“Final call, bartender,” Darren sneers.

“No!” I scream and sprint forward, ready to plunge the blade into him before he can get to Maverrick.

But Darren turns at the last minute.

I drive mine down into him, my stomach twisting at the feel of the blade penetrating his body.

“You’re never going to let it go, are you?” Darren growls. “You’ll never be mine. But you won’t be his either.”

Pain hits like a shockwave, originating in my gut and spreading outward. I stagger backward, then look down at my belly as blood saturates the front of my shirt.

Is that my blood?

Is that—My legs give out, and I fall to my knees.

“No!” Maverick bellows.

Darren turns toward him, but Maverick is already there. He grabs Darren’s head and twists, and a sickening crack fills my ears. He doesn’t break speed as he stumbles forward and falls to his knees in front of me.

“No, no, Sadie.” He rips his shirt off and presses it to the wound. More pain at the pressure steals my breath.

Tears fill my eyes as I look up at him. “I’m s-s-sor-r-ry,” I stammer.

“Stop apologizing,” he growls. “Stay with me. I need to call⁠—”

Something cracks in the distance, wood splintering, moments before heavy bootsteps fill the bar.

“Mav!” Sawyer calls.