“She’s mine, asshole.” He leapt on Penn.

Chaos erupted. Elbows. Knees. Fists and curses. They were no longer two men but one mass of punching arms and striking kicks. Their centrifugal force shoved furniture this way and that, their bodies crashing into a side table and sending a swan-shaped lamp smashing to the floor.

Greg tackled Penn into the couch.

Penn struck the back of Greg’s head, getting free.

While Greg shook away the pain, Penn kicked him straight in his ribs then delivered a lightning-fast punch to his belly.

With fists up and biceps bulging, Greg attempted to strike again but Penn was too nimble. He landed a perfect uppercut to Greg’s jaw all while quiet fury rippled off him.

His experience in fights was alarming. His past was the perfect training course for such systematical punishments, reminding me I knew nothing about him or how far into lawlessness he’d fallen.

He’d mentally disconnected. Focused entirely on winning.

“Stop! Both of you!” I screamed.

It didn’t do any good.

They attacked with vigor born from survival.

The sound of a roaring vehicle outside wrenched my head up just in time to see the black Range Rover I knew so well hurtle down the driveway and slam to a stop. The windows revealed David leaping out with the engine still roaring, charging toward the cabin with his gun free from its holster.

“Quit it! Right now!” I darted to where Penn and Greg rolled. Someone’s leg struck out, hitting my cuffed ankle.

I tumbled to my knees, a pained gasp falling.

Penn made eye contact with me just as his fist slammed into Greg’s temple. “Shit.”

Greg toppled sideways, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. Out cold.

A second later, the front door ricocheted open, and David stood braced with his weapon raised. “Everybody freeze.”

I held up my hands, hating the chains so damn much. “It’s okay, David. I’m fine.”

“Ms. Charlston?” He stomped forward, his finger never pulling away from the trigger. His ex-Marine gaze swept the room, taking in the carnage, and understanding without being told the gist of what’d happened.

His attention latched onto my face where a black eye had formed and tear tracks painted me as exhausted and strung out. His gun pointed away as he came to my side. “Who did that to you?” He swung around as Penn stumbled away from Greg’s unconscious form and stood on wobbly legs. He winced a little as he put weight on his right ankle.

David immediately trained the gun on Penn’s chest.

Penn put his hands up in surrender, but his body still carried the remnants of battle.

David growled, “I knew you looked like a trouble-maker the first time I saw you.”

Penn spat a mouthful of blood by Greg’s prone body. “I don’t care what you think of me.” Stalking toward me, Penn grabbed my hand and wrenched me forward. “Come on, Elle. I’ll take you home.”

Home?

Was he insane?

He needed to go to a hospital. Greg, too. The police would be involved. Not to mention, I never wanted to be alone with him again.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” I tugged on his hold, looking down at Greg. “Do we need an ambulance?”

Penn chuckled coldly. “Doubt it. He’s better off than he would’ve been if your fucking driver hadn’t turned up.”

David hoisted the gun higher. “Keep talking like that, and we’ll have an issue. Let Ms. Charlston go.”

Penn wrapped tight fingers around the chain joining my wrists. “No, she’s coming with me.”

My bare feet dug into the floor. “No, I’m not. I told you. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Yes, you are. We need to talk about this.” He swiped a swollen hand through dirty hair, letting me go. “Tell me where he put the keys and I’ll free you. Then we’re leaving.”

I shook my head. I wouldn’t go with him. I didn’t trust him. I didn’t like him.

I don’t even know him.

But answers...they were the only thing that made sense in this screwed-up reality.

Maybe I should go...

End this like adults.

David fought on my behalf, giving me time to weigh the pros and cons. “Don’t move, either of you.” Moving toward Greg, he ducked and put his finger on his pulse.

Greg didn’t twitch. His legs splayed, arms spread, blood everywhere. It looked like a murder scene.

David muttered, “You’re lucky he’s still alive. Otherwise, I’d shoot you for killing him.”

Penn snorted. “And I suppose that’s fair justice to kill the man who rescued the head of Belle Elle?”

David stood, holstering his weapon with angry jerks. “I was about to rescue her.”

“Yes, but I beat you.” Staying close, Penn didn’t touch me, but his eyes captured mine in a way that sent my tummy mimicking baby birds clumsily learning how to fly. He’d never looked so rough and dangerous but beneath the bloody smears was passion and desperation. “Elle, please. We need to talk.”

I backed up. “Maybe in a few days. Once I’m home, and this is behind us.”

“I don’t have a few days.”

My voice sharpened. “Why not?”

Penn shook his head, a sad smirk on his lips. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Is he leaving?

Why would he say that?

Something about the way he shrugged tugged at me to know. He looked resigned. Pissed off and full of injustice but grudgingly accepting whatever he knew that I didn’t.