Crashing through the door, I hear her voice the moment I step in. The cry of my name on her lips.
The next few seconds feel like an out-of-body experience. I'm moving, but I can't feel my legs. Can't feel the air in my lungs. All I can feel is the heat—the roaring, blinding heat that fills my chest when I see him.
A man. Between her legs. She's on the sink with his hand clamped over her mouth.
The world goes red, and a shrieking ringing fills my ears.
I've blacked out before. The last time Ace was badly injured, I came to with blood on my hands and a corpse beneath me, beaten and battered. Didn't remember what I'd done. Still don't. That terror lives in my bones.
This time, I don't black out. I know exactly what I’m doing.
My hand catches the back of his collar before I can register that I’ve reached him. I don't think about discovering who he is. Don't think about dragging him off for Andy to handle. Don't think about consequences, questions, or the mess I'm about to make.
I throw him away from her, growling out as the demand to get him as far away from her runs hot. I don’t want him touching her any more than he already has.
He hits the floor hard, and he slides a good few feet. Before he can react to the pain, barely even choking back his shock, I’m suddenly on him.
I want to kill this man. That’s the only thought ringing through my mind. I need to kill him. Need to make Bunny feel safe again.
My fist connects with his face. Once. Twice. I feel something give beneath my knuckles before more red fills my vision. Not of anger, but of blood. The warm liquid seeps through my fingers, but it doesn’t stop me.
Ican’tstop.
He tries to fight back. I barely feel it. His fist grazes my ribs. Another catches my jaw, but it does nothing to push past this murderous wave that’s consumed me.
"Smoke!" Her voice cuts through the static, hitting me harder than his fists.
One more punch and I feel his nose crunch beneath my fist—a wet, sickening sound that should satisfy me but doesn't—and I pull back, my jaw tight from how hard my teeth have been grinding.
My knuckles ache and throb from being split. My lungs burn like I've been holding my breath for hours. When I finally inhale, the rush of adrenaline hits me so hard my vision swims.
Then I realize Bunny's watching.
Her hand is pressed to her mouth. Her fingers are trembling, but she's not looking at me. She's looking athim.
The man crumpled on the ground. His face bloodied, his chest still rising—barely, but rising. He’s still alive.
"Bunny—" The word comes out ragged. The heat in my chest curdles into something cold.
I’ve just scared her and showed her a side of me she shouldn’t have seen.
And now she’s got tears welling in her eyes, barely held back. Am I the reason she's about to cry?
I'm on my feet before I know it. Forgetting about finishing him off, I move toward her without thinking—without considering that I might scare her even more than he did.
I shouldn't touch her. Not with these hands. His blood is on my knuckles, and I don't want to get any on her.
But I want to wipe those tears away. I want to promise her she's safe. That, despite what she just witnessed, despite what I just did in front of her—she's safe.
I stop an arm's length away. My hands hang at my sides, and I don’t know what to do with myself.
Bunny moves as the dilemma hits me hard. She throws her arms around my neck and pulls me into her. Crushes herself against my chest. I feel her quivering breath against my throat, promising me that she’s okay.
She's not. Against the mirror's reflection, I spot the red spot on her back, turning a bruising hue. It stops me from wrapping my arms around her.
"Is he... dead?" Her voice is so small. So soft. Like she's afraid of the answer.
"I don't know." Giving her the honest truth, I don’t look to see whether he’s fallen from his injuries. My hands near her, but I hesitate, still unsure where it is safe to touch her. Fuck, I want to hug her. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."