Chapter 16
Nate
Through the sound of the blood rushing through my ears and my own heavy breathing, I heard a grunt and ran in that direction.
A man in a black hoodie was sprawled on his stomach on the driveway and Liz knelt on his back, struggling to keep his arm twisted behind him.
Blood pooled under one of her knees where it dug into the glass and asphalt of the driveway, but she was here.
She was okay. She was alive. She was kicking ass.
I ran to her, dropping to my knees beside her, combining my strength with hers to keep him down.
I still had my bike helmet on and didn’t want to take my hands off him to take it off, so I flipped the visor.
I was breathing hard, a fucked-up combination of fear, anger, and gratitude rushing through my chest. I looked at Liz and she looked back at me, even as the man under my hands bucked and fought.
“You okay?” The words passed my lips barely above a whisper, emotion at what could have happened clogging my throat.”
She nodded. “You?”
I nodded too. “You kicked his ass.”
She smirked with half her mouth. “You taught me to. Where were you?” There was no accusation in her words, only concern.
“Shithead here ran me off the road. Brock found me; he should be here any second.” I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to kill him. First, I had to know who he was. I yanked his hood off his head and grabbed his face with my hand. “Kyle, I presume?”
“Fuck you.” He sneered, but his eyes were on Liz.
A Neanderthal level of possessiveness flashed through me.
She was mine. His eyes didn’t deserve to see her.
He shouldn’t be breathing the same air. The fact that he had ever touched her made me want to rip him in two.
My fists clenched, but when I looked at Liz, my shoulders relaxed.
This was her fight to win, and she’d won it.
I hope she’d kneed him in the ribs a few times for good measure.
Sirens pierced the air and then it was three against one. I moved to the side as best I could without letting go of the fucker still struggling on the ground. Brock knelt between where Liz and I had him pinned and started to put the cuffs on him. I hoped he put them on good and fucking tight.
With the cuffs around one wrist, Liz stood to give Brock more room to work. As she did, her injured knee buckled, and she started to sway. Whether from an injury or an adrenaline drop I wasn’t sure. A mistake we would all regret.
Years of training never to turn your back on your opponent, but all I saw was her.
Pure instinct drove me off Kyle’s back and to Liz’s side.
She had fought a hard fight. I put my arm around her to help support her weight, leaving Brock to do what he did best. My actions distracted Brock just long enough for Kyle to wiggle an unseen weapon from his pocket.
A grunt of pain rang out and when I managed to tear my eyes off Liz I saw the stalker with the handle of a knife in his hand, the other end plunged deep into Brock’s thigh. The piece of shit got to his feet, the cuffs still hanging off one wrist, and made a run for it.
I dug my toe into the asphalt and prepared to take off after him.
Liz was already on her way. Blood stained one side of her jeans.
Her hair had been in a neat braid when I’d seen her at the police station, but it was now half destroyed.
She must have fought him with everything she had, but in true Liz fashion, she still had a little more to give.
She didn’t look like a victim of Kyle now, she looked like a predator, after prey that deserved to get punched in the fucking face.
It didn’t take her long to catch up to him, maybe fifteen steps. Despite the day she’d had, she jumped and caught him around the knees. They both went down hard, but she had the upper hand. She grabbed the handcuff and secured the other end to his free wrist.
This time, he didn’t struggle.