Madison screams and Tim stumbles backward, but neither is a deterrent and I charge forward, ready for strike two. I land a blow on his cheek and then deliver an upper cut to his chin in quick succession, which snaps his head back with a sickening thud.

Tim shakes his head and wobbles on his feet, my punishing blows obviously rattling his tiny brain, but I don’t stop. I right hook his face with a powerful swing and he ends up staggering backward, wiping the back of his hand against his bleeding lip.

“Dixon, no!” Madison screams, but I ignore her.

“You again!” he slurs when he sees me, his eyes narrowing in rage.

“I’m back to teach you some manners,” I snarl and lunge forward, attempting to knock this son of a bitch down.

He dodges my attack and gets in a lucky jab, connecting with my lip. The metallic taste indicates he’s busted my lip open, but the taste just fuels my rage. We both round off, each watching the other like prey, but Tim isn’t steady on his feet, and I can see his eye is starting to swell.

“I don’t know why you’re fighting for her. She doesn’t even put out,” he spits, his bloodied spittle staining the sidewalk red. “Or maybe she’s finally stopped being a cock tease and given it up.”

His crudeness feeds my anger and I’m about to attack, but Madison literally beats me to the punch as she steps between us and socks the asshole in the nose. He staggers backward, no doubt surprised she actually hit him, and he falls to his ass while Madison yelps, clutching her hand against her chest, hissing in pain.

Her safety overtakes my need to kick this guy’s ass. “Madison, are you okay?” I ask on a rushed breath, reaching out and touching her shoulder.

However, she surprises me as she shrugs out of my grip, appearing to be angry at me.

As she meets my confused gaze, I can see her eyes are filled with tears, but I have a feeling those tears aren’t caused by the pain she’s currently experiencing.

“Let me take a look,” I gently say.

“I’m okay,” she bravely replies, still cradling her wounded hand against her chest.

“Please?” I plead, softly wrapping my fingers around her wrist, coaxing her to let me see.

Thankfully she complies and lowers her hand, making a pained face at the movement.

“Can you make a fist?” I ask, lightly placing my hand around hers and feeling for any breaks.

She does so but whimpers in pain and tries to pull back. I have a firm grip on her, however, and don’t let go. I finish my examination and conclude, “It’s not broken, but it’s definitely sprained. Let’s get you home so you can ice it.”

“You’re bleeding,” she gasps, reaching out and touching my lip with her finger.

Her kind sentiment warms my heart, but I pull out of her touch, as I want to get her hand iced before it swells.

“I’m fine, it’s just a scratch. Let’s just get you home, okay?”

Madison nods. I look over her shoulder at Tim, who is slumped to the floor, too winded to move.

“Nice right hook,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and leading her in the direction of my car.

“Thanks,” she replies, trying to appear calm, but her tiny tremors reveal just how shaken up she is.

I bundle her closer into my side, and when she comes willingly, my body sings at the feeling of being needed by her.

As I feel the first sprinkles of rain paint my cheeks, I curse this atrocious weather. Without warning, the sky suddenly opens up and dumps a torrential downpour in seconds. Madison shrieks while I latch on tighter and quicken our step, as we’re about to drown.

“How far is it?” Madison yells to be heard over the rain, her face turned into my side.

“Three blocks,” I reply, my boots squishing with every step I take.

Madison suddenly places a hand on my bicep and when she squeezes tightly, I stop abruptly, wondering what she’s doing. She quickly reaches down and clumsily slips off her heels, dropping about five inches instantly. She looks up at me, looking like a drowned rat, but she smiles and nods, and then we commence a sprint to my car.

By the time we reach my BMW we are completely saturated, but all I can focus on is getting Madison inside and out of the rain. I practically shove her into the passenger seat when I unlock the door, and then make a mad dash for the driver’s side, slamming the door shut as I leap in.

The moment the engine purrs to life, I reach down and switch on the heating, as I can hear Madison’s teeth chattering. I glance over and see her damp clothes sticking to her body.

“Damn this weather,” I bark, brushing back my wet hair so I can see the congested road.

Just as I’m about to take off, Madison curses. “Shit.”

Looking over, I ask, “What’s the matter?”

She curses again and frantically looks around, lifting her ass off the seat and looking beneath her.

“Darn it, I’ve lost my bag,” she says with a small hiccup, and it’s only now that I’m not livid and can see relatively clearly that I notice she appears a little glassy-eyed.

“Do you remember when you had it last?” I ask, and she shakes her head, her wet hair sticking to her long neck.

Looking out through the windshield, I see the rain has picked up to biblical proportions, but I unbuckle my seatbelt, ready to brace the downpour. However, Madison clutches my forearm, stopping my retreat.

“You can’t go out there. It’s pouring, and this is New York. It’s probably already found a new home,” she explains, looking out the window.

“But what about your belongings?”

“It’s okay. I didn’t have much on me. Just my key, some cash, lip balm and gum,” she states and then she unexpectedly hiccups once again.

She appears mortified and quickly covers her mouth.

“Are you drunk?” I query with a smirk, and Madison lowers her face, embarrassed.

“No, not really. Well, I don’t think so,” she replies, the heater blowing her matted hair off her face.

“You don’t think so?” I ask, confused, while rebuckling my seatbelt.

Madison shakes her head and shyly replies, “I’m not a big drinker, so when I do drink, it only takes one or two and I’m pretty much done for the night.”

I indicate and pull out into traffic, knowing getting home is going to be a nightmare.

“Ah, a cheap drunk. Every man’s dream date,” I tease, but zip it when I realize what I just said.

Madison scoffs dryly. “Yeah, well, that’s the problem.”

“What is?”

“It’s the dream date that led me to drink.”

“I’m not following,” I reply, my eyes focused on the road.

The leather creaks as Madison moves, and I wonder if she’s regretting her random disclosure. But she surprises me as she says, “I met David’s parents tonight.”

“Oh?” I question, but I know damn well she met his parents, as I overheard her phone conversation.

“Yeah,” she replies, the heaviness clear in her tone.

“How’d it go?” I attempt to appear casual.

“Great,” she responds with a sigh.

“So, that’s a good thing, right?” I question, my fingers clenching the steering wheel.

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, they were really nice people, and very accepting.”

“But…?”

“But I dunno. They were too nice and too accepting. Oh my God, what is the matter with me?” she cries, slapping her hands over her face.

I reach out with one arm and uncover her face. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with you. And it’s my job to know these things,” I say, trying to make light of the situation.

“Yes, there is,” she sadly counters with a sniff.

Quickly glancing over, I see tears are collecting in her beautiful green eyes. Her sadness breaks my heart, so I decide to set her straight, as this self-doubt is painful to watch.

“From where I sit, I don’t see anything but perfection.” It’s out before I can stop myself, and I hope she isn’t freaked out by my honesty. I focus on the road, waiting for her reply.