Page 29

Rafe was already moving. He yanked Frisco off Billie Ann, his heart pounding so loud it nearly drowned everything else out.His eyes scanned her in a flash. No blood, thank God, but the welt on her face lit a rage inside him that was unstoppable.

He kicked the gun under the counter and grabbed Frisco by the front of his jacket, dragging him bodily out of the trailer. The bastard fought him, clawing and swinging, but Rafe didn’t feel any of it. His rage was a living thing now.

Outside, Rafe let loose. The fight turned primal in an instant.

Frisco was fast, slippery, and agile like the crow he was. He came at Rafe with a wild grin, feinting left, then jabbing at his ribs. Rafe took the hit and returned with a brutal uppercut that snapped Frisco’s head back.

“You should’ve stayed gone,” Rafe growled.

Frisco lunged, managing to clip Rafe across the jaw. Pain flared, but he welcomed it. Pain always made him more focused. His Jaguar wanted to come out to play, but Rafe held him back. This was his job, his Mate he was defending.

Rafe grabbed the bastard by the shirt, slammed him against the side of the trailer, and drove his fist into Frisco’s gut, then his jaw—once, twice—bone and cartilage giving under the force.

Frisco twisted free, staggering, spitting blood into the dirt. Rafe hit him again, sending him sprawling into the gravel.

“You laid a hand on her,” Rafe said through gritted teeth. “That’s all I need to bury you, motherfucker.”

Frisco surged back up, wild and desperate now, but Rafe was ready. He tackled him to the ground, fists landing in a flurry of controlled, punishing strikes.

“You don’t know shit!” Frisco roared, bucking under him. “She was supposed to be mine! Davey was going to hand it all to her, so I took it! I took him out, and she still picked you!”

“You took nothing but a life!” Rafe sneered down at him and then smashed an elbow to his face. “Davey never promised you anything did he you sick son of a bitch. You knew Billie Ann would come home, which would be your chance at owning the bar through her. You are a sick piece of shit.”

“It would have worked if it weren’t for you coming here.” Frisco sneered through the blood flowing freely from the wounds on his face.

Rafe’s smile was deadly as he glared down at Frisco. “That’s right, fucker. If, for whatever reason, you think of coming around again, remember my warning. I will kill you slowly and painfully. Better yet, if Jack doesn’t off you...watch your fucking back, Crow.”

“You just sealed your fate, Frisco,” came a deep voice behind them.

Rafe looked over to see Jack Crow and Mac standing nearby, their faces carved from stone. He had called Mac when five Crow Shifters ambushed him. He had known something was going down and needed someone with Billie Ann because he didn’t know if he would make it in time.

“You just confessed to the murder of one of your own, asshole,” Jack said coldly. “We’ll handle it from here, Rafe.”

Frisco stilled. The blood from his nose dripped onto the dirt. For the first time, there was no cocky grin, no confidence—just realization.

Rafe stood slowly, chest heaving and fists shaking. “I can finish him now. It’s my right.”

“Go check on Billie Ann,” Mac nodded toward the trailer. “And Rafe, Davey’s death is a Shifter-on-Shifter crime, and you know that needs to be handled differently. If that weren’t the case, then you would have full rein to end him yourself.”

Rafe wiped the blood from his jaw. “If you so much as breathe in her direction, you won’t walk away next time, and no one will stop me,” Rafe growled down at Frisco before standing up and turning toward Jack. “There are five or six Crow Shifters who ambushed me. Some may still be knocked out by the creek up the hill.”

“You will never have to worry about him again. I can promise you that. And I’ll take care of the other five as well.” Jack gave him a sharp nod. Mac stepped forward and hauled Frisco to his feet, whispering something low and full of authority. Frisco didn’t fight. His cocky fire was gone.

“The gun,” Rafe said through clenched teeth, his voice still rough from the adrenaline pounding through his system. “I’m sure it’s the one the bastard used to kill Davey. It’s in the trailer. I’ll get it to you tomorrow.”

“Get her out of here. You know where to take her and where the key is.” Mac ordered, then gave him a grim nod. Jack Crow said nothing, his jaw tight, eyes locked on Frisco as he and Mac dragged the broken man away.

But Rafe wasn’t watching anymore. He turned and jogged back toward the trailer, his blood still hot, his mind racing with images of Billie Ann pinned against the wall with her cheekbruised. It made something twist savagely within him. He wanted to rip Frisco apart, but that was out of his hands now.

What wasn’t out of his hands… was her.

The trailer door hung crooked on its hinges. He stepped inside and found her sitting on the floor, knees drawn to her chest, eyes wet and wide.

Their gazes met, and in an instant, she was in his arms.

He dropped to his knees, wrapping her tightly against him as she buried her face in his chest and finally let go. Her sobs were quiet but raw, and he held her tighter than he’d ever held anything in his life.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here,” he whispered against her hair, his voice trembling from so many emotions ranging from fear to rage that anyone dared lay a finger on her.