"You breathe in her direction?—"
Another slam. His head cracked against the shelf. Blood smeared across the spines of old paperbacks.
"I will end you."
The man choked, clawing at my hands. His eyes bulged with terror. Good. He should be terrified.
"Gideon—stop—" Belle's voice cut through the red haze. Thin. Shaking. Broken.
I released the man. He crumpled to the floor, wheezing.
But the second shark was already moving again—trying to crawl toward the door.
I grabbed him by the throat and hauled him upright.
He clawed at my wrist, nails digging into skin. "Please?—"
I tightened my grip.
My vision tunneled. Blood roared in my ears. Every instinct screamed at me to finish this. To make sure they never walked again. Never spoke again. Never existed again.
I drew back my fist and drove it into his face.
Something cracked.
Not his bones.
Mine.
Two fingers on my right hand snapped sideways, instantly swelling. Purple bloomed across my knuckles. The pain should've registered.
It didn't.
I only felt rage. Pure. Consuming. Righteous.
The man slumped in my grip, blood pouring from his nose.
I dropped him. He hit the floor like a sack of meat.
Both sharks lay gasping. Broken. Bleeding.
The taller one sputtered, crawling backward on his elbows. "We—we'll leave—just let us?—"
I stepped forward.
He flinched.
I leaned down, voice deadly calm. "If you ever come near her again, I'll put your bodies on public display."
Silence.
Then they scrambled. One limped. One stumbled. Both bleeding, leaving a trail across Belle's beautiful bookstore.
The door slammed behind them.
Gone.
Finally gone.
