With a grumble, I put more pressure on the tendon beneath my thumb. The corner of my mouth kicks up at the pained sound he makes, twisting to find relief that isn’t coming. Levi taught me every trick he knows to make someone fucking hurt.
“I wasn’t talking to you, shithead.” My gaze moves back to Maisy, waiting for her answer.
“I’m fine.” She steps forward. “But I had this, you didn’t have to—”
“I did.”
There’s no room for argument in my bitten off response. The days spent avoiding her haven’t changed a damn thing, the need filling my chest still very much alive. When it comes down to it, I won’t let her get hurt. I’ll protect her. It’s instinctive, soul-deep, and undeniable.
The flood gates that kept these feelings at bay during the years I spent hating her with every breath have cracked and crumbled. They’re open and there’s no going back.
Maisy is mine, even when I can’t have her. She’s always been mine.
And I’ll be damned If I ever stand by and allow another man to lay a hand on her like this fucker tried to. I wasn’t kidding when I threatened him with death for touching her. That’s how far I’ll go for the people I want to keep safe.
The moments of Blake lifting his hand to smack her fly through my head again, and with a savage growl I maneuver his wrist to a painful angle.
“Dude!” he shrieks, free hand scrabbling uselessly at my leather jacket.
“Okay, scary tough guy, enough,” Maisy grits out. “I appreciate your help, but I can take care of my own problems.”
“No, daisy,” I mutter, dragging Blake by my hold on his wrist so I can step closer to her. Flowers and coconuts touch my sense of smell and my mouth quirks up at the sides. I bend my head down so she can hear my low promise. “He wanted to touch you. That makes this my problem, too. You’re my problem.”
Her breath catches as her eyes fly up to meet mine. The seriousness evident in my gaze makes her lips part. My attention falls to her mouth and an intense yearning to kiss her right now pours through me.
God, I want to steal her away, put her on the bike behind me, take her back to our tree to pin her against it like before while I peel this dress up, and—
“How touching,” Blake snarls, breaking the moment. He struggles to escape, but I have a good grip on him. “Is it the leather that does it for you? His motorcycle? You hide it well, pretending you’re this perfect ideal. What will your daddy say when I tell him?”
“Tell him what?” Maisy cuts him off with a glare. She holds out her arms. “This is the real me. You have no idea what I’m really like because you didn’t want to get to know me. I don’t care what you or anyone else thinks of me. I thought you wanted to be my friend, but you’re such an asshole, Sam.”
He releases a caustic laugh. “Friend? Bullshit, I just wanted to fuck you after all those rumors that you finally stopped being such an uptight good girl. That’s the only reason I was nice to you, I fuckin’ earned the right to—”
Before he can spew more shit, she cocks her arm back and punches him. Blake can’t move far thanks to my iron grip on him, so he takes the full force of her fist to his cheek with a groan. Laughter puffs out of me at the fierce expression on her face.
“Like hell you earned anything with me, you entitled dick,” Maisy says furiously. “What I do with my body and who I decide to do it with is my business, not yours. So stop trying to comment on it like you have any right to my body because of some fucked up notion you got in your head that if you were nice to me I’d reward you.”
“You should use your whole body. Turn your hips and torso with your momentum,” I suggest, raking my gaze over her.
“What?”
She turns to me, still spitting mad. It’s a damn good look on her, sending another bolt of heat shooting to my groin.
“Your form is good, but you’re smaller than him with less muscle tone to power your hits.” Her eyes narrow dangerously, and another chuckle leaves me. “I said less tone, not that you aren’t strong.” A beat passes as I take her in. Every stunning inch. I can’t hide the reverence in my voice. “I know you’re strong. If you do it that way, you’ll pack a harder punch without sacrificing speed.”
Her eyes soften and a pretty pink color tinges her cheeks at the compliment. I swallow back the happy rumble that starts climbing my throat, cutting it off before it can escape. She keeps making me forget, drawing me in with magnetic force to something I can’t have.
“I can’t believe you’d rather spread your legs for this bad boy act, slu—”
We both release irritated sounds. Blake doesn’t get to finish, breaking off into a scream when I twist his arm in my punishing hold, yanking hard to stretch it, and then angling up until there’s a sickening pop. A vicious grin crosses my face as he stumbles away from us in agony.
“Holy shit,” Maisy whispers, staring wide-eyed at the sight of Sam Blake’s dislocated arm.
This time she doesn’t look ready to run. There’s no fear in her hazel eyes, only a bright intensity that echoes the violence brimming in me.
“What the fuck?!” Blake yells, trying to cradle his injured limb. “You—Your dad is inside. When I get him and report you for assault, it’s over for you, Wilder.”
I stare at him with an unwavering threat that makes him freeze. “Fuck off, Blake, before I do something more serious to your car than making sure it doesn’t start the next time you get in it.” When I take another step toward him, he scurries backward like the coward he is. “A dislocated arm will be the least of your worries. Be glad I didn’t break it.”