That damn pain again, crushing my heart with its vice-like grip. I can’t bear it much more. For a moment I wish I didn’t feel anything for them, because it would be easier that way—but then I really, truly would have nobody on the planet. I’d be completely alone.

They’re both yelling, a tense exchange, and that familiar ring starts in my ears again. Just make it stop. I’m so tired.

A hand clamps onto my shoulders, Elliot’s hand, and he shakes me slightly as he points to Jase. “You can’t trust these people! They tried to kill you, Julz!”

I stare daggers at Elliot and open my mouth to reply, but Jase gets in first.

“I tried to save her,” he growls, his index finger jabbing into Elliot’s chest. “You weren’t there. What do you know?”

Elliot sneers, looking from Jase to me. “He’s Dornan’s son,” he spits, knocking Jase’s hand away from his chest with a swipe of his own hand.

Jase roars, tackling Elliot to the ground, where the two grapple and fight to overpower each other. Jase straddles Elliot and punches him square in the nose, and Elliot responds by somehow reaching up and getting Jase in some sort of reverse headlock that I can’t quite figure out. They’re pretty evenly matched in height, strength, technique—and anger.

And love for me, I realize sadly.

“You’ve got Dornan’s blood in your veins,” Elliot taunts Jase, as the two grapple. Elliot lands a punch on Jase’s cheek, and Jase follows that up with a swift chop to Elliot’s throat that leaves him gasping and choking for air.

“Stop,” I plead, standing over the two of them as Elliot again manages to overpower Jase momentarily, sitting on his chest and giving him another hit to the face. Jase’s face is cut and bleeding, which only spurs Elliot further.

“Elliot!” I scream, grabbing at his arms as he continues to pummel Jase, who by now is starting to slow. Elliot’s hits are becoming sloppy and unfocused, his only aim to make Jase’s face look like hamburger meat.

I take a step back and charge forward, all of my weight focused on my hands. I lunge for Elliot, aiming to knock him off Jase or at least get in between the two before he beats him to death.

It works, even though I’m probably half his weight and size. Determination and gravity work in my favor, and soon I’m straddling him. I hit my knee on the side of the glass coffee table as we both fall awkwardly between the sofa and the table, and it makes my eyes water.

Oh well. At least my face doesn’t look like a scalpel attacked it.

I’m kind of surprised, to be honest, that Elliot overpowered Jase. I always imagined it’d be the other way around. That El would be too nice and would hold back his full strength in a fight like that. Obviously not. He gave everything for me back then and he’s just given it all again here, tonight.

He sits up, clearly displeased, a hand curled tightly around each of my arms as he tosses me sideways off him and onto the couch. He staggers to his feet, just in time for both of us to hear the deafening click of a gun being cocked. Fuck.

Jase stands before us, his arm shaking, his face almost unrecognizable. One eye is swollen half shut, there’s blood coming from his nose, and the entire left side of his face is littered with cuts and swelling.

Oh yeah, and that shaking arm leads to a hand, holding a gun. The gun I was in charge of. Double fuck.

“Get up,” Jase commands, and Elliot rises to his feet swiftly, keeping his hands in full view.

“Really? You’re pointing that at my dick?” Elliot’s voice is still taunting and bitter, even when he’s in danger of being shot.

“Put the gun down,” I say to Jase, wriggling to the edge of the couch, where I stand, planting myself firmly between the two again. Jase ignores my request, instead aiming over my shoulder, at Elliot’s head.

“Jason!” I yell, trying to make eye contact with him. He remains steadfastly locked on Elliot’s forehead, the two shooting each other daggers so poisonous, that if looks could kill they’d both be dead already.

“Don’t aim at his head!” I yell, the words coming out wrong. Jase sneers, blood smeared across his teeth. A horrible shiver passes from the top of my spine to the soles of my feet as an image of Dornan biting my breast and drawing blood swims in my vision.

“If you move out of the way, I’ll point it back at his dick,” Jase offers sarcastically. “Your call.”

I stay put.

Jase shakes his head. “You don’t come into my house and tell me whose son I am. I’m NOTHING like that motherfucker.”

“What I want to know is why haven’t you killed him yet?” Elliot’s acting like he has the upper hand, when he’s the one who’s about to get his brains painted all over the wall behind him. Jase’s expression drops when he hears Elliot’s question.

“It’s none of your business,” he says through clenched teeth. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“I’m the guy who saved the girl. The girl who would have died if it was left up to you,” Elliot spits, and I feel like I’ve been punched.

“Elliot!” I yell, rounding on him.

“Get out of my house,” Jase says, deathly calm. Too calm. “I won’t tell you again.”

Elliot throws a disgusted glance at Jase. “His brothers were waiting in the hospital corridor to murder you, Juliette. Don’t you remember?”

“Of course I remember!” I snap, tears filling my eyes. A rock forms in my throat that hurts to talk around.

“We need to leave,” Elliot says, taking my wrist. To the surprise of all three of us, I snatch it away. “Julz!”

I shake my head. “I’m not leaving, El. I’m sorry.”

The shock on his face is outweighed by the hurt. His cocky sneer falls away, replaced by a look of absolute heartbreak that makes me wish for the sneer again.

“Julz,” he pleads, gentler this time. His eyes wide, imploring me. I sob as he draws me close to him, tilting my chin so I’m looking up into his stricken face. “Don’t do this. Don’t go back to this life you fought so hard to flee.”

Love fights a bloody duel within my heart, and I’m torn between darkness and light, the pain a real and living thing. I shake my head, rising onto my tiptoes to brush my lips against Elliot’s smooth, but battered cheek. Then I push him away, even as the places he was touching me burn without his contact. Even as I know that he might not forgive me for this.

“Go,” I say, motioning to the front door.

He doesn’t move.

“Go!” I yell, more forcefully this time. I’ve broken his heart for real this time, I can tell. His eyes tell me everything: his sorrow, his pain, his rage. All there for me to behold.

Finally, he seems to come to a snap decision. He pushes past me, stopping briefly to grab his unloaded revolver and magazine from the coffee table. He shoves both into his pocket and then corners Jase, who doesn’t seem to mind being cornered, since he’s the one with the gun that works.

“I’m watching you,” he says menacingly, one finger pointed at Jase’s bloodied face.

Jase grins. “I’ve already been watching you,” he replies. “Next time you come into my house, you’re a dead man.”

Elliot storms out, slamming the door behind him for good measure. As soon as he’s gone, I start to panic.

Oh my God. What have I done? I just sent him away after everything we’ve been through? What kind of horrible, selfish bitch does that make me? He saved my life. He gave up his life and his career so that I’d be safe, and he came here tonight thinking that I was in danger … and all I did was hurt him even more and send him away?

It’s not right. It’s beyond wrong. I rush to the kitchen and grab my iPhone in one hand, the battery in the other, trying to stick the battery back in so I can call El and make sure he’s all right. I briefly consider following him, but I also can’t leave Jase here alone, his face completely messed up and with the weight of my secrets weighing upon him.