My heart broke with the instinctive knowledge that this was not the first time Ronnie got like this.

“I know you, Ronnie Cockran,” I said, refusing to back down or let him think I was scared. “I know you’re a drunk. And a coward. Instead of taking what life gave you and turning it into something different, better, you let yourself be the victim. And it’s clear you’re in denial about that because you’re trying to make her a victim now.” I jabbed my finger in Lori’s direction, not risking a glance at her because I couldn’t be sure what Ronnie would do if I took my eyes off him. “I see you. You’re small and weak.” I let the words fly like weapons, rage simmering inside of me. “And if I make a call to Finn, he’s gonna come down here, and you’re not gonna be brazen enough to get in his face. That, I’ll bet my life savings on. Because he’s got a gun, a badge, and a fuck of a lot more honor than you.”

Insulting and threatening Ronnie at this juncture probably wasn’t smart. He was not sober enough to see reason or think about the consequences of what would happen if he made good on his threats.

But I couldn’t help it. Couldn’t restrain the anger, the fury that I had toward him and men like him. My blood was boiling.

As was Ronnie’s it seemed by the way his nostrils flared. “You fuckin’ bitch,” he snarled, lifting his hand, to do what, I didn’t know.

Luckily, I didn’t find out since the squeal of tires against pavement made both of our heads turn, Ronnie’s hand hovering in the air.

A familiar truck screeched into the parking lot, a familiar man bursting out of it.

But the familiar dog was faster.

Maggie. The sweet dog who had napped on my rug, who had rubbed her head against my hand and followed her master dutifully, now ran ahead of him.

Ronnie started screaming as Maggie’s teeth sank into the flesh of his legs.

“Get it off!” he cried.

Maggie did not get off. She was growling, tearing through his pants. I stared in both horror and a sick kind of relief.

“Maggie. Heel.” The stern voice cut through the growling and Ronnie’s screams.

Maggie instantly stopped her attack, sitting at Rowan’s heels which weren’t stationary for long. No, the second the dog let go of Ronnie, Rowan was on him.

He had Ronnie by the throat, dragging him away from me.

Ronnie didn’t even try to struggle. Not even a little. Presumably because he was nursing an injured leg, courtesy of Maggie, but mostly because he was now faced with a man, a real one, one who could snap him in half in a second.

Rowan.

Coming to my rescue.

Like it was his job.

Kip was hot on his heels. I didn’t know what both of them were going to do with Ronnie, but that wasn’t my business. Lori was my business.