I had what I thought was the perfect date lined up. Nice restaurant—I booked out the whole place so it was just the two of us. I didn’t… No, I don’t want to share my Little Bee with anyone. Flowers, blue tulips of course. My shirt and slacks, pressed without a wrinkle in sight. You know, the works.

Then I got a message from Lucy telling me she had to have dinner with Shar and that she’d meet me afterwards. I thought about crashing her plans with her friend. Or just going and taking her, forcing her on this stupid date that was her fucking idea in the first place. I didn’t do either of those things. Instead, I decided to stay home and wait.

Delayed gratification and all that shit. I’m on edge though, like an ice junkie craving their next fix. I’ve been trying to watch a movie to distract myself. But there’s no point. I couldn’t tell you a single thing that’s happened on the screen.

Ash’s number lights up my phone on the coffee table. I swipe it up and connect the call. “Dom, where are you right now?” he asks.

“At home, why? What’s up?” The hairs on the back of my neck rise and my stomach drops at the thought of something happening to Bree or my niece.

“Who are you with?”

“No one.” For once, I have no idea what he’s getting at. Or what he wants.

“Do you know where that little girlfriend of yours is by any chance?”

“She’s having dinner with her brother and her friend. What’s going on, Ash?” I press him more urgently.

Fuck, why is he asking me about Lucy?

“Her brother just called me and asked me to ask you to replace out where she is. He can’t reach the friend,” Ash says.

I’m already pulling the phone away from my ear and bringing up the tracker app, which locates her within seconds. “What the fuck are they doing at a goddamn biker bar?” I yell.

“What?”

“I’ll text you the address. Send it to her brother.” I hang up, message Ash the coordinates, and run to the garage. I’m going to fucking kill her.

What the fuck is she thinking going to a seedy-ass bar like that by herself? But I already know the answer. She’s not. The girl has a goddamn death wish, I swear.

By the time I pull into the car park outside the bar, my blood is boiling. Then, when I push through the doors, it fucking boils over as a rage unlike anything I’ve ever known courses through my veins and a red haze clouds my vision. I march over and pull the fucker who has a death grip around Lucy by the back of his head. A chunk of hair rips out of his skull as I spin him around and land a right jab to his face. Bone crunches under my knuckles, blood splatters across the front of my shirt, and I smile. My fist connects with his face another three times before I see someone coming at me from the left. I shove the half-conscious fucker aside with a kick to his ribs as he stumbles and falls, then turn and land a blow to the next bastard’s jaw. Before I know it, I have four fucking guys coming at me at once.

“Give it your best shot, ʼcause it’ll be your fucking last,” I tell them, my hand shooting out and wrapping around a pool cue, which I break in two over the one guy’s head. I catch the larger half, swipe it down, and take his knees out. He falls to the floor, giving me time to spin and go on the attack with the remaining three.

“Stop, let me go! I have to stop him. He’s going to kill them!” Lucy’s voice has me seeking her out, trying to replace whoever the fuck is touching her now. That’s when I spot them by the door. Xavier is tugging on Lucy’s arm, trying to drag her out of the bar.

I’m too far gone, too distracted, to stop the next asshole from landing a blow to my face. I spin around, shoot out a fist, and watch as he falls. My arm’s already pulled back, my jaw set tight, when I feel someone tugging on my sleeve. I turn to see Lucy clinging to my jacket right as a bar stool splinters over my head. My vision blurs and I stumble back a step. Pushing Lucy behind me, I shake off the dull pain, pick up a glass, and smash it over the skull of the first fucking asshole to come at me again.

As soon as Xavier finishes knocking out the fucker who hit me with the bar stool, I yell out to him, “Get your sister out of here, now,”

“She’s not about to leave your fucking ass. If you want her out, you’re going to have to leave as well,” he yells back.

Lucy tugs on my arm again. And if I weren’t so worked up, I’d be more appreciative of her stubbornness. Instead, I turn around, bend down, and throw her over my shoulder. Then I march towards the exit and right outside to my fucking car before depositing her in the passenger seat.

“Don’t fucking move,” I grunt in her direction.

“Get in the car and take me home, Dominic McKinley. Now. Because if you don’t, if you go back in there, I will follow you,” she says while crossing her arms over her chest in a gesture of outward defiance.

It’s obvious she’s not in any mood to be compliant. So I slam her door closed, walk around to the driver’s side, and climb in. I’m fucking furious. At her. At the assholes who touched her. And at myself for letting it go that far. I was so preoccupied planning this stupid date she insisted on having that I wasn’t watching her. And it nearly got her killed.

I lift the bottom of my shirt and swipe at the blood dripping down the side of my face before starting the engine and pulling out of the car park. We each stew in silence the entire drive back to my place. I don’t know what to say to her right now—other than to yell at her. Remind her how fucking stupid she was for putting herself in that position to begin with. I decide it’s better for the both of us if I just keep my mouth shut.

The moment I pull into the garage and park, I jump out of the car, walk around to the passenger side, and open her door. She climbs out, and I slam it shut and stalk towards the house. Stopping at the alarm system on the wall, I punch in the code. If she tries to open one single door or window in this house, I’ll know about it.

I walk into my bathroom and pull my shirt over my head. Turning on the tap, I wet a washcloth and start cleaning the blood from my face. Lucy appears at the doorway. Our eyes connect in the mirror before hers move to the gash at the top of my scalp. Her nostrils flare, her chest rises with a sharp intake of air, and her face pales. I quickly pivot to face her and watch as she sways on her feet.

I take two steps forward, my arm outstretched in her direction. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Did those assholes fucking drug her?

“Blood,” she says right before her knees give out.

“Fuck!” I catch Lucy before she hits the ground. Scooping her into my arms, I carry her over to the bed and lay her down. “Lucy, wake up.” I slap her cheek and shake her.

“What? What happened?” she asks as her eyes flutter open.

“You fainted. Why the fuck did you faint? Did you take something?” I can smell the alcohol on her breath. “How much did you fucking drink, Lucy?”

“No. It’s… you’re bleeding,” she says.

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t like blood.”

Well fuck, I make a mental note to never let her see blood on me again. Mine or someone else’s.

“I’ll be back.” I walk away, pull the phone out of my pocket, and call my dad.

“Dom, everything okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, I need the number for that doctor who does house calls,” I tell him.

“Why? What happened?”

“Lucy fainted. I want her checked out.”

“Okay, I’ll send it through now.”

“Thanks.” I hang up and walk back into the bathroom. By the time I turn on the shower, I get a text message from dad telling me the doctor will be here in twenty. So I stop what I’m doing and head into the bedroom. “I’m going to have a shower. The doc’s coming by to look you over,” I tell Lucy. I grab her a bottle of water from the mini fridge and hand it to her. “Drink this.”

THE DOORBELL RINGS throughout the house fifteen minutes later. Opening the door, I replace the doctor, with my dad and uncle in tow.

“What the fuck, Dom? You said the doctor was for Lucy,” Dad growls while inspecting the gash on my head.

“It is. She fucking fainted. She’s in the room. Come on.” I lead the way. “Lucy, the doctor’s here to look at you,” I tell her. My voice is harsh. I can hear it. But there’s not much I can do to change it. I’m still fucking fuming at her.

Her eyes widen as she looks at the doctor, my dad, and my uncle who’ve all just entered the room. “I’m fine. I’m not the one who’s bleeding,” she says, scrambling to get off the bed.

“Sit down,” I growl at her.

“No.” She folds her arms over her chest for the second time tonight. It’s starting to be less cute, and far more irritating. “You need to fix his head,” she says to the doctor.

Uncle Josh chuckles from behind me. “Dom, let’s go for a walk.” He pulls me back by the collar of my shirt.

I don’t budge. Shaking out of his hold, I walk up to Lucy. “Please just let the doc check you out, then I’ll get him to look at my head.” I keep my voice quiet, softer. I’m trying to compromise here. But I see the resolve in her firmly set features.

“Fine, but I want you to sit with me. And does everyone really need to be here? This is embarrassing, Dom,” she whispers back.

I have no idea why she’s embarrassed. I turn to my father and uncle. “Wait out in the living room.”

Dad looks from me to Lucy before shoving Uncle Josh out the door and closing it behind them.

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