One eye nearly swollen shut, the brunette gasped, eyes frantically searching for a means of escape despite the fact the man had one hand curled around her throat.
To the bar and back—Penny’s plan to return to the safe house was first dodged when she’d had to bypass some kind of drug bust, and then again by a growing group of questionable loiters. Somehow she’d miraculously found herself back on the main road…and now this.
Penny mentally cursed the fact that there hadn’t been anywhere to stash a weapon in Maria’s outfit.
“Did you hear what I fucking said?” The tall man backhanded the brunette so hard Penny’s teeth ached in sympathy.
She couldn’t walk by and do nothing, and there wasn’t time to trace her steps back to the bar. If anything, she could distract the jerk from doing further damage until either one of the guys happened to swagger by or someone with a phone and a direct line to the police crossed her path.
“Do you know where I can find a taxi?” The Spanish rolled off Penny’s lips effortlessly.
“Back off, bitch,” the man snarled without looking in her direction.
She cocked her hip, slightly insulted he’d dismissed her as a nonthreat without a single glance. Still determined, she pulled her bail enforcement skills to the surface and forced a smile into place, becoming the bar-hopping annoyance this man expected.
She stepped forward as he raised his hand to gift the young woman another punch. “I think I’m lost. Maybe you can help me find my way home.”
“Leave before I realize two of you means double the fun.”
The man’s head whipped in her direction. His dark, impenetrable stare drilled through her armor and snaked a sliver of fear up her spine. There was no emotion on his face except wild, raw, and nearly unrestrained rage—and now she had both his attention and the attention of the cowering woman against the wall.
“Please,” the young woman rasped, begging for Penny’s help. “Help me.”
With a growl, the man released his hold on the woman and swung in Penny’s direction. She ducked, the momentum of his botched punch sending him into a sideways swagger. It didn’t take long for him to regain his balance and come at her again, this time with a small glint of metal in his right hand.
“Not so talkative now, are you, bitch?” he jeered, sidestepping toward the left.
Penny’s heart instinctively shot to her throat, but she pushed it down and focused, never letting his hand leave her line of sight. She hiked up her minuscule skirt, centered her balance on the damn high-rise boots, and waited for him to make the next move.
He didn’t keep her waiting long. He lunged. A quick spin to the right and he stumbled past. Like the training exercise with Logan, she snapped a roundhouse kick against his wrist. There was a loud crack on impact, and then they both watched as the serious-looking blade skidded beneath the nearby Dumpster.
Her attacker leapt to attention first. Penny didn’t see his fist until it caught her jaw. Colorful starbursts exploded across her dimming vision.
One, two, three. He slammed her into the nearby wall, giving her no time to recuperate before driving a fist into her left flank. Her head spun. Her torso ached. But the sound of his victorious laugh cut through her pain like heated steel through butter.
With a warrior’s yell falling from her lips, she whipped a clenched fist into his face, making impact hard enough to stun him for the knee she drilled into his midsection. The second he doubled over, she followed it up with a second—and final—ram into his face. Bones crunched and the asshole dropped. Hard. And most importantly, unconscious.
Fits of nausea forced Penny to lean heavily against the wall. She didn’t even attempt turning around when another dark shadow entered the alley. Somehow she knew it was Rafe. He stepped into a beam of light, and the look on his face nearly took her breath away all over again. Muscles tensed, he glanced from the scumbag on the ground to the woman cowering by the Dumpster. When they returned to Penny in a visual scan, his eyes softened.
“Are you okay?” No yelling, no cursing, no getting in her face and calling her ten shades of stupid. His gaze darted over her face as he took a hesitant step closer.
“I’m good. No worries.” She waved him off with a forced smile, afraid she’d burst into a puddle of tears if he touched her for even one second.
Her humorless laugh was the wrong move. Pain rippled around her side, each wave stronger than the previous until her knees buckled with the effort to remain standing. A tight-lipped hiss was all it took to find herself in Rafe’s arms.
He became her support. Firm yet gentle, he tucked her against him and didn’t flinch when she gripped the back of his shirt, probably taking off the first layer of skin.
“Slow and steady,” he ordered gently. He caressed his palm over her battered torso. “No sudden movements, okay? And it’s probably best to save the yoga breathing for when you don’t have a few broken ribs.”