Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
P ain exploded in Lorna’s face as Lyle’s fist collided with her cheekbone.
She cried out in pain as the force of the blow sent her reeling back, and she crashed into one of the tables. The corner of it bit into her hip as she whacked it on her way down.
“Do you think you can come into my building and talk to me that way?” Lyle shouted, advancing on her again.
She skittered backward, pedaling her body away from him with the heels of her sneakers.
So, in hindsight, it might have been a mistake to march into the shop, loaded for bear, and yell at him to get the hell out of her business. Which she meant in both the literal and figurative sense.
It had been a huge mistake for her to come down here to face Lyle, period.
What the hell had she been thinking?
A coffee mug, one of the many Lyle had been throwing across the lobby, lay within reach, and she grabbed it and hurled it toward his head.
She missed.
He grabbed it and threw it back at her. He might have played defense, but he still knew how to throw, and pain shot through her arm as the cup skimmed past the side of it.
Grabbing the back of a chair, she pulled herself to her feet then pushed the chair between them. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
He let out a laugh, the evilness in it churning her stomach. “Just because I don’t want you anymore, doesn’t mean anyone else gets to have what will always belong to me. And don’t you worry, I’m planning to pay Lassiter a visit before I leave town. He doesn’t get to make me look like a fool and get away with it.”
She laughed, and his head jerked toward her. “Mack didn’t have to do anything. You look like a fool all on your own.”
She’d never laughed at him or talked back to him before.
And the sheer gall of her doing it now was sending him into even more of a rage.
He came charging toward her, and she stumbled back, tripping over the cup, and falling on her butt. She flipped over and got to her knees before he grabbed her ankle and dragged her back toward him.
She screamed as he rolled her over then straddled her body, landing hard on her hips as he sank down to pin her to the floor.
He punched her once, and she tasted blood in her mouth.
Then his hands were around her throat, choking the life from her. She bucked her hips, trying to push him off her.
Blackness clouded the sides of her vision. She was going to pass out.
Then he was going to kill her.
She thought of her precious babies and how stupid she’d been to face him alone.
Then his body was lifted from hers, as if a giant hand had reached down and plucked him into the air then threw him across the room.
She blinked, not quite believing that it was Mack she was seeing, his hair wet, no shirt, his muscles flexed as he tore after Lyle, who lay in a heap on the floor.
Mack grabbed him by the front of his shirt and hauled him up then swung his fist in an arc that slammed into Lyle’s nose with a sickening crunch.
Blood ran down Lyle’s face. It was bright red against his white teeth as he smiled at Mack. “Come on, Lassiter, she’s not worth fighting over. You can have her. All I want is the building.”
“Too bad all you’re getting is my fist in your mouth.” Mack punched him again, the blood on his face spraying across Lyle’s yellow T-shirt.
Lyle’s arm reached out, found another of the ceramic cups on the floor, and Lorna tried to scream a warning at Mack as he swung his arm up and crashed the cup into the side of Mack’s head.
The blow opened a gash on his forehead and appeared to have stunned him. It was enough for Lyle to gain purchase as he pushed Mack off him and scrambled away.
Mack roared after him, but Lyle grabbed a chair and swung it into Mack’s midsection. The blow sent him flying back, and he hit the floor.
Then Lyle was on top of him, swinging his fists and screaming with rage as he straddled his body. He used his knees to pin Mack’s arms then got his hands around the cowboy’s throat, the same way he’d done to her.
Lorna pulled herself up, every breath painful as she pulled it through her bruised throat.
She had to get to Mack. She might not have been strong enough to save herself, but she would find the strength to save the man she loved.
“Stop it. You’re killing him,” she screamed, dragging herself forward.
“That’s the idea,” Lyle shouted back, his teeth clenched with the effort of trying to hold Mack down while he strangled his throat.
Lorna used a chair to pull herself to her feet. She saw Mack’s body go limp just as she lifted the chair and swung it at Lyle’s back. It hit him in the side, and he fell off Mack’s chest, grunting in pain as his shoulder hit the ground.
“You bitch!” he screamed, pushing to his knees then his feet and coming at her again. He swung his fist, connected with her jaw, and sent her reeling back.
She fell to the ground and skittered back, her hands behind her, desperately searching for something to throw at him or hit him with.
He picked up the same chair she’d hit him with and raised it over his head as he stalked toward her. Standing above her, he raised the chair higher, poised to slam it into her body.
Then a shot rang out, and a red spot bloomed on his chest as he flew backward and into one of the tables, smacking his head as he fell.