I tossed it to Kai who quickly unsheathed it, stabbed a tire, the air pouring out, and Damon and I ripped open each of the back doors.

River screamed as he grabbed her out of the car, and I shot out my fist, growling as I popped that scumbag in the fucking face.

I pulled him out of the car as he coughed and sputtered, the blood pouring into his mouth from his nose.

“Get home,” Damon ordered her.

Her worried gaze darted between us, her face already wet with tears from whatever Scott was trying to do to her in there.

But I could guess. You’re a minor. I’ll take you home where you belong, but on second thought, I won’t bring you in or call your parents about the drugs and alcohol I found in your car if you just come here next to me for a minute and don’t tell anyone.

Jesus Christ.

Diving down, I hit him again.

And again and again before rising up and kicking him in the back of the head.

Motherfucker. That motherfucker.

He wanted to hurt River like he hurt his sister—rough her up, make her cry…

Or worse.

And God help me, if he did anything like that to Emmy, I wouldn’t hesitate. He’d be dead.

River ran off, back toward the highway, as Kai rounded the car, stabbing the rest of the tires. I whipped open the front door, kicking the radio and ripping it off its wires, while Damon tore off the dash cam, dropping it to the ground and stomping it with his foot.

Chances were the cop already turned that shit off when he parked with the girl here, but I didn’t want him being able to call for help, either.

I reached into my hoodie pocket, took out the cell phone and tossed it over the roof of the car to Damon before reaching back in and pulling out a thick cut of rope.

I walked over, planted my foot on his back, and pushed him back down the ground.

“Don’t look for us when this is over,” I whispered to disguise my voice. “And don’t you ever touch any woman again. Not River Layton. Not Emory. Not anyone.” I leaned down, wrapping the rope around his neck. “If we find out you did, we won’t let you walk away next time.”

He gasped and grunted, and I rolled him over, his eyes sharpening as he met mine through my mask

Thrashing, he rolled away and tried to scramble to his feet, but in a moment, we were all on him, kicking him and launching fists.

I jerked my head at Kai, and we all picked Scott up, took him into the warehouse, and tied his wrists, securing them above his head to a steel beam.

We all backed away, the guys probably waiting to let me have first go as Damon took out the phone and started filming.

I paused. It was stupid to document this, but…

I licked my lips, seething and still tasting the bourbon I’d had in the car.

I wanted to watch it. To relive it. To see him suffer over and over again.

“Look at me,” I whispered.

He breathed hard, and I walked over and took off his duty belt, dropping it to the ground.

“Look at me,” I growled again, low.

Slowly, he raised his eyes and met mine through my mask. The corners of his gaze crinkled in recognition.

And then…the asshole smiled.

“You think it’s my fault?” he asked in a quiet voice between us. “That she rejected you?”

I tightened my fists.

And then he laughed, despite how his teeth glistened with his own blood. “I would’ve been happy,” he told me. “Even better if she would’ve gotten pregnant. Having an inside to all that money, power, and connection? Priceless. She would’ve finally been useful.”

I stayed frozen, barely breathing.

He spit, spattering blood from his mouth all over me.

But I didn’t even blink.

“She knew you were a loser,” he said. “You’d just be the drunk womanizer you are now, not fit for her life.”

My blood boiled under my skin.

He knew who we were, but I didn’t care. The masks and whispering were for the camera, not him.

Was he right? He wasn’t right. She didn’t say it, but I knew she loved me. I felt it.

It was him. He made her forget about me. He made her scared.

“And this is just a reminder,” he continued, “that she’s long gone and fine without you, but you’ll never be more than this. You’ll never be enough.”

I shook my head, my eyes burning.

Kai cleared his throat behind me. “We can’t stay here forever, Will,” he whispered. “Let’s do this.”

But Martin Scott just smiled, seeing what he was doing to me.

“She never looked at you again,” he said. “Did she?”

I stopped breathing.

“She’s never called. Even since she graduated and got free, right?”

How did he know that?

She could’ve called me. There was no reason not to once he was out of her life.

He laughed again. “You’ll never be enough.”

I swung my fist back, gritted my teeth together, and growled as I punched him across the face.

Fuck you.

A sob escaped, but I covered it up quickly.

Motherfucker.

I hit him again, hitting and hitting until long after he’d stopped laughing and my knuckles ached like they were on fire.

Tears welled and poured, and the whole world tipped on its side as I brought my fist down again and again.

Fuck you. Fuck you.

Kai came in, threatening him not to go near a minor again, and then I came back pounding, kicking, and punching some more until eventually my hands dripped with his and my blood, and I could do nothing else but laugh.

Until he passed out and they had to pull me off him.

We dumped his body on the side of the road, peeled out of the area in Damon’s SUV, and used a burner phone to call the police to tell them where to find him.

And I didn’t care if it brought her back or not. He deserved it.

If he had any sense, he’d keep his mouth shut, too. He knew we knew he’d had River Layton out there.

Witnesses.

If she talked, she could be a liar.

But not all four of us.

Damon dropped Kai at home and then me.

“Wanna go drinking?” he asked.

I shook my head. I had better stuff in my room, but he wouldn’t be down for that.

“See you tomorrow.” I shut the car door, and he drove off as I made my way up the steps of my house, staring down at the blood all over my hands.

I didn’t want to go inside. I looked up at my house—gray stone with three floors, a wine cellar, and a basketball court in the back.

I was a lucky boy.

And a fucking loser.

He was right, and nothing felt better.

I turned around and walked, leaving my truck and clutching the cell phone in my pocket.

I had no desire to ever watch it again.

I walked down my driveway and headed down the road, back toward the village in the black night as I took out the phone to delete the video. I wanted it gone.

I wanted to erase everything about me, because I hated me as much as she did.

“Hey, man!” someone called.

I looked up, closing the phone before I could finish and stuffing it into my pocket.

Bryce rolled up, peering at me through the open window. He had a girl in the car, and I leaned down, forcing a smile and stuffing my bloody hands into my pocket.

He studied me, sensing something. “You need a ride?”