It took her a second to regain her breath, but she knew she had to defy him. She gave herself only a moment to brace for his reaction, then stared up at him. “Day after day,” she taunted in a rough rasp. “Morning, noon and night.”

His brows pulled down. “You mouthy little bitch. You think I’ll take that crap from you?” Again his fingers squeezed, tighter and tighter.

She saw stars but at the moment she felt no pain, just a numb, pervading fear. Pamela stood frozen while Mitty smiled at her.

She listened for Denver. Please let him be okay.

Laughing, Carver again let up the pressure and moved his hand to the neckline of her dress, tracing a fingertip just above the material. “Maybe you need to learn another lesson, little sister. I had planned to get you back in the woods. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Communing with nature...and all the creepy crawlies?” He laughed at her automatic shiver. “But you know, maybe it’d be better if I take you right here while he’s inside whining to his daddy. I’m betting that’d wipe the memory of him right out of your head.”

“You can’t,” she told him, her voice now hoarse. “A pathetic worm like you wouldn’t even put a dent into how I feel about him.”

Before her eyes, his rage coalesced, growing brighter, hotter. When he drew back his fist, Cherry braced herself.

In the next instant, Carver literally flew away from her. Thinking only of getting to Denver, Cherry started to scramble up—but then he was already there, lifting her up against his chest and holding her close like he’d never let her go.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

A LITTLE DAZED, Cherry touched his face to make sure he was real. “Denver?”

“I’m so sorry, honey.” His mouth touched her forehead, her cheek. “So fucking sorry.”

She looked beyond him and saw Armie holding the gun on Mitty, who knelt cradling his obviously broken arm. Carver sprawled on the ground, with Stack’s boot on his throat.

That had to have happened fast—and she hadn’t heard a thing. “What—”

“Gene caught me by surprise.” Denver smoothed back her hair, cradled her face gently. “He managed to cut Dad before I could put him under.”

Crying out, Pamela took off in a panicked run.

With her heartbeat just starting to return to normal, Cherry watched her go. “She’s fast.”

Denver squeezed her tighter, sort of laughing, mostly breathing hard. “God, girl, are you okay?”

Sensing he was on the edge, Cherry put her arms around him. “I’m okay. Are you okay?”

“I’ll be better in a minute.” Gently he set her down.

Struggling to get her wits back, Cherry grabbed for him. “Your father?”

“He’s got a nasty cut on his shoulder, but he’ll be fine once he gets some stitches.” He cupped her face, turned it this way and that. “He hit you?”

“No.”

Denver tipped up her chin, examined her neck, and his expression went stony. “He choked you?”

Armie spoke up, asking, “Want me to kill him?”

Oh God. Cherry took in the look in Armie’s eyes and believed him capable.

Denver shook his head. “Logan and Reese are on their way.”

“Already?” With each second that passed, Cherry felt better, less frantic, less terrorized.

Less haunted by her past.

Denver had Carver and somehow he’d end it all today.

Swallowing hard, Denver closed his eyes a moment. “I told you I’d protect you.”

“You have,” she whispered.

“Not well enough. I knew Pamela had spoken with Carver, so I had the guys keeping an eye out. But I thought you were safe here or I’d never have let you out of my sight.”

“You didn’t know Carver had gotten details on the party.” And then, hoping he wouldn’t hate Pamela more, she rushed to say, “Pamela thought he was your friend. She was as stunned to see him as I was.”

He nodded. “I hadn’t thought of that, but I knew she’d talked with him, so I had someone tailing us, just in case.”

“Armie and Stack?”

“Tonight. But Leese, Cannon, Gage, Brand and Miles have all agreed to help out, too.” He tucked her hair behind her ears. “You have a lot of people who care about you.”

It was more about those people being loyal to Denver, but she was happy to be included. “I need to thank them.”

With a strangled laugh, he put his forehead to hers. “You’re always wanting to thank someone.” Just as quickly, he sobered again. “Leese will talk with the detectives tomorrow. He can verify that Carver drugged him, that they beat the shit out of him, all to get to you.”