“Colt! We’re out of here, man. Get your ass in the truck, and let’s go.” One of the twins, Dufus or Dipshit, called out.

As the trio continued to wrestle Finn toward Colt’s truck, he never stopped glaring at me. “Don’t mess with me. Don’t mess with my brothers. Don’t mess with our women,” he ordered. “After tonight, you’ll have learned your lesson.”

I was beat to shit, more broken than put-together, and I had to spit blood before I could say something, but I wouldn’t let Finn think he’d beat me. He hadn’t. I hadn’t come so far mucking through life’s shit it only to be beaten by a few pairs of fists, a baseball bat, and Finn Mason. “You call that a lesson? Come back over here, and I’ll show you a lesson.”

It was true—I really didn’t know when to shut my mouth.

Finn lunged against his brothers, but his adrenaline was fading since he wasn’t using me as a human piñata. His brothers had no problem tossing him into the back of the truck and keeping him there. “I’m going to kill you, Black!”

I blew a kiss his way. “Have fun with the boys, sweetheart.”

That sent him into another fit of rage, making his brothers look like they were considering using the baseball bat on him.

“Colt! Today!” one of his brothers shouted.

Colt finally let go of Josie, and as soon as he did, she spun around, slapped him so hard it echoed, and raced toward me with a look of terror. From the looks of it, she must have thought I was about to die—or was already there. Once she reached me, she fell to her knees and draped her arms around me. Actually, it was less of a drape and more of a grab.

I grimaced. “Hey, Joze? You know I love you touching me, the more desperate the better, but right now . . . less is more, baby.”

Her arms instantly loosened. “Oh my god. Please don’t die. Please. Don’t. Die.” She was such an emotional wreck, it looked like she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She wound up going with the latter.

I managed a smile, despite it hurting like hell. “Okay, fine. I won’t.”

Colt was heading for his truck, glancing at us like he wasn’t sure what had happened or what to do about it. Just when I was sure he was going to keep on walking, he paused. His whole face lined as he studied Josie and me spread out over the gravel. “You want me to call an ambulance or something?”

Josie shot him another glare.

“Or something,” I huffed, slowly rolling onto my back. I stretched out one limb at a time, one inch at a time. Nothing felt broken—at least no bones were. Colt slid his phone out of his pocket. “Thanks, but I’m good. If I called an ambulance every time I got in a fight, I might as well just buy the company because it would be cheaper.”

Colt shifted. “You sure?”

“Just get the hell out of here!” Josie shouted at him, eyeing the bat.

“We’re good. Do as the lady says.” In my state, I wouldn’t have been able to stop Josie if she did decide to pick up that bat and take swings at a flock of Masons.

“Okay.” Colt nodded and started for his truck. “I guess I’ll see you . . . around?”

Josie snorted and wiped at my face with the sleeve of my jacket she still had on. I stroked her cheek. It was still swelling and already bruising. Another flash of rage.

“Colt?” I didn’t wait for him to acknowledge me. I knew he heard me. “Tonight, you were my ally because you kept Josie out of all this. Come tomorrow”—I managed to lean up on my elbows to look him straight on—“you’d better steer clear of me. If I run into you, I’m treating you like any other Mason who did this to her.” My eyes scanned her face before shifting back to his. When Colt inspected her face, his eyes closed in a wince. He nodded once before leaping into his truck and peeling out of the parking lot faster than they’d peeled into it.

“Man, Josie. I don’t know who took it out of me more tonight—you or the Masons.” I cupped her other cheek and worked up another smile. It was done. The Masons had done what they’d wanted to, were gone, and we were both okay. I might need a good night’s sleep and a few Tylenol, but I’d had it worse. Unlike other fights, I hadn’t had anyone to sit beside me afterward, stroke my hand, and look like they were suffocating in their concern for me.

Concern . . . it was a fairly new concept to me. One I was sure was overrated and a bunch of bullshit. As I laid there spread over the gravel, blood pooling in my mouth and every square inch of my body throbbing in pain, I realized how nice it was to have someone concerned about my wellbeing. Someone concerned about me. Someone cared whether I was still alive come morning, and that gave my life a meaning and purpose that had been absent. She depended on me, and for right then, she wanted me in her life. It was a sobering reality. One that would take a while to figure out.

“Say something. Please,” she sniffled, wiping her nose with the same sleeve she’d used to wipe my face with. It was dotted with blood. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to fucking do right now.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” She looked as close to hysterical as I’d ever seen Josie, and despite the pain coursing through my body, seeing her so undone caused the most pain. “Why don’t you help me up and over to my truck so I don’t get blood all over yours, and then let’s just get back to your place and figure out the rest when we get there. Sound okay?”

“Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital? You look bad, Garth. Really, really bad.” She bit her lip as a tear slipped from her eye.

That tear was like another baseball bat slammed into my back.

“No hospitals. They’re sick of me anyways even if I actually needed one. Which I don’t.” She looked like she was about to start screaming for an ambulance. “Just get me back, get me to bed, and I’ll wake up tomorrow good as new.” Nothing I was saying was calming her down. If anything, every word seemed to be working her up more. Gritting my teeth, I sat up so I could be face to face with her. Maybe that would reassure her I wasn’t about to be drug off to hell after taking my last breath. “Look at me, Josie. In the eyes.”

She sniffed and shook her head. “I can’t. They’re swelling shut.” She choked on another sob but managed to keep the rest of them back.

That explained why I couldn’t see anything more than a sliver of her. “Hey, hey,” I said, trying to soothe her with my words, my hands, with anything. “Where’s that brave girl who just issued the slap heard around the country? Where’s my strong girl who just took a swing at a guy twice her size?”

She fretted with my shirt, laying the rips and tears back together, buttoning the buttons that had come undone. “A lot of good me being brave and strong did to save you.”

I adjusted my head until the sliver I saw of her was her eyes. Mine might have been swelling shut, but she could still stare back at me. “You have no idea how much good you’ve done to save me, Josie Gibson. Don’t you ever doubt that.”

Josie let those words simmer for a moment, then she rolled her shoulders back, wiped her eyes, and wove her arm through mine. “Let me help you up.”

“Thanks”—I shoved off the ground, letting her guide me up—“because I don’t think I’m capable of doing it on my own.”

When I was up, Josie wrapped one arm around my waist and lifted my arm over her shoulders. “Was that you admitting you need help and actually accepting it?”

“It just might have been,” I admitted, shuffling beside her as we made our way to my truck. Being vertical and moving doubled the pain, but Josie’s arm around me, supporting me the whole way, dulled it somewhat. When we made it to the passenger door, she opened it and guided me inside. After shutting the door, she hurried around to the driver’s side and leapt inside.

Firing the engine to life, she glanced over at me with an expectant look. “Buckle up, buttercup.” That made me laugh. Which made me wince. “I’m serious. I’m not putting this truck into drive until you put your seatbelt on. We didn’t make it this far for you to die all because you refused to buckle up.”