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“Don’t,” he said quietly, and something in his eyes made my blood run cold. “Don’t tell me what I am. You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me.”

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think past the panic flooding my system.

Then I heard the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Get your hands off her. Now.”

Lane’s bellow cut through the parking lot like a whip.

Blake’s head snapped around, but he didn’t let go of me. If anything, his grip tightened.

Lane stood about twenty feet away, his hand on his weapon on his belt, his face a mask of controlled fury. “I’m not going to say it again, Blake. Let her go.”

“Or what? You’ll shoot me? In front of all these witnesses?” Blake laughed, but it was a bitter, ugly sound. He pulled me closer, using me as a shield. “I don’t think so, Deputy.”

Lane’s jaw was clenched, and he looked terrifying. “There are no witnesses. It’s just us. And I will absolutely shoot you if you don’t release her right now.” Lane’s voice was deadly calm. “You’ve got three seconds.”

“Lane—” I tried to say, but Blake’s hand tightened on my throat. Bruisingly tight.

“Shut up,” Blake hissed. Then, louder, to Lane: “You think you’re so much better than me? You think because you’ve got a badge and a gun that makes you the good guy?”

Lane’s beautiful face was hard as steel. “I think I’m the guy who’s about to arrest you for assault, battery, and violation of a restraining order.” Lane moved closer, his eyes never leaving Blake’s face. “Now let her go before this gets worse for you.”

“Worse for me?” Blake’s laugh sounded unhinged now. “It’s already worse for me! I lost my job because of you. Had to leave because you called my boss. Had to run because of those bullshit warrants from Kansas and Nebraska.”

“Those warrants are real. Just like the assault happening right now is real.” Lane was only ten feet away now. “Last chance, Blake. Let her go.”

For a moment, I thought Blake might actually listen. His grip loosened slightly, and I sucked in a desperate breath. Then I did something I never would have thought possible. Clenching my hand into a fist, I slammed it down into his groin.

Blake screamed and shoved me, hard.

I went sprawling across the pavement, my palms scraping against the asphalt, pain shooting through my left wrist as it collapsed under my weight.

And then everything happened at once.

Lane launched himself at Blake, tackling him to the ground. They hit the pavement hard, both of them grunting with the impact.

“You’re under arrest—” Lane started, trying to get Blake’s arms behind his back.

But Blake was bigger than I’d realized, and desperate. He bucked, throwing Lane off balance, and landed a punch to Lane’s jaw that made my stomach lurch.

Lane’s head snapped back and his hat went flying, but he recovered fast, landing his own punch to Blake’s ribs.

“Backup en route,” Lane gritted out between blows. “Five minutes.”

Five minutes might as well have been an eternity.

They rolled across the parking lot, a tangle of fists and fury. Blake fought like a man with nothing to lose—wild, vicious, landing blows wherever he could. Lane fought like a trained professional, but I could see blood on his face from a split lip.

“Stop!” I screamed, scrambling for my phone. “Stop it!”

But they didn’t stop.

Blake managed to get on top of Lane, raining down punches. Lane blocked most of them, but a few got through, and I heard the sickening sound of bone on bone. Scrambling to my feet, I searched for anything to use as a weapon, but there was nothing near me. Finally, I lurched forward and grabbed one of Blake’s legs, but he kicked me away. I fell to the ground again.

But I spotted my dropped phone. I was about to dial 911 when a truck squealed into the parking lot—a beat-up Ford with a Montana plate on the front bumper.

The driver’s door opened, and a bearded man got out—tall, maybe six-three, with broad shoulders and dark hair pulled back in a short ponytail. He was wearing jeans and a red flannel shirt, and he took in the scene with the kind of instant assessment that screamed military training. Then a dark shape jumped out behind him, low and dangerous. The dog was already growling, his gaze focused on Blake.