When I turned the corner, I saw the door to Lane’s shop open. She was way too smart to leave that door open. My heart did that half-jump thing it does when it knows something your brain hasn’t figured out yet. I broke into a jog, pretty sure I was completely overreacting.

Then I heard her yell, “Stop!”

Adrenaline lengthened my strides, preparing me to fight.

Whatever made her scream like that was going to die.

I only saw the guy’s back at first, but I heard her crying. I pulled the bastard off her and flung him onto the floor, spending half a second, tops, looking at the asshole before I turned to make sure Lane was alright. Her fucking shirt was hanging off her, only attached by a strip of fabric going around her waist.

The fucker was going to wish his balls had never dropped.

But as soon as I saw Lane’s face—blood covering her nose, running onto her lips, drips of it on her chest, I—

“He fucking hit you?”

Her expression changed, grew even more shocked. She shook her head and reached out for me. She knew before I did.

I’d just lost every bit of control I’d ever had. As if a switch had turned on, the dial had been cranked all the way up, and there was no coming down. I spun towards the motherfucker who’d done it—made her hurt and cry and scream.

His turn now.

“Wait, Carson!”

Her ex, the fucking toad, was slowly climbing to his feet, until his face was just high enough for me to put my knee into. Then the asshole wasn’t standing anymore. He was bleeding, holding his nose, cursing. But I couldn’t stop there. The fucker had hurt her and that was bad enough. But that he’d come back and hurt her again, this way, was something I couldn’t let slide. Even if I could have stopped myself.

“She loved you, asshole!” I kicked him, sending him sprawling backwards, skidding on the cement. I wasn’t done. “She loved you, and this is how you pay her back for it?” Shit started pouring out of my mouth so fast, my brain couldn’t keep up. My fists couldn’t keep up. “Why’d you come back? Because she might have had enough time to get over you? She might actually be happy or have found someone who would treat her like she should be treated?”

Everything faded except my enemy and my fists, occasionally my boot, as if they didn’t exist until they were in contact with his body. “Someone who actually understands how amazing she is? What the fuck is wrong with you? She’s not weak, and she’s not going to take your shit. I’m not going to let her.”

I didn’t even see his face anymore—it had blurred out a few seconds ago. Fifteen years gone as if they’d never passed. I was gone. I was nothing but rage and violence. The emotional and physical feeding off one another, combining into something I couldn’t control. Didn’t want to control. I wanted to hurt, to punish, to make him stop.

This time I could. I was strong enough and brave enough now—I could make him stop hurting her and me and Hayden. “We don’t need you.” We could leave him and not come back. We could be like everyone else. Be a family. I could be normal. Not afraid of him or myself anymore. I—

In the distance, someone screamed, pulled on a body that didn’t feel like mine anymore.

“I’m not done with him yet,” I growled. I couldn’t stop until I’d made sure this bastard never hurt any of us again. I felt another tug as somebody tried to drag me away. “I’m not done!” I spun and open-handed the person to get them to back off.

They fell onto one of the tables littering the place, and I heard my name. “He’s not your dad, Carson. I’m not your enemy. Please, just stop.”

And then reality returned. And she came into focus. Crying, holding the side of her face.

Where I’d hit her.

I fell backwards onto my ass and scrambled away from her, knowing she wasn’t cowering from Kevin, she was cowering from me.

“Lane.” Her name emptied my lungs of air, and I wished they wouldn’t fill again. So I would be punished for what I’d done and who I was and what I was capable of. But they did fill, and my heart kept beating, and I lived. Even though I shouldn’t.