She whimpered but didn’t stop.
“Play nice,” the man said, but she simply reached between his legs and took hold of his cock, squeezing him hard.
Her death grip was broken as she was tackled to the floor.
Someone was on top of her, and in the distance, she heard a whimper, a cry, a beg, and a sudden crack.
The guy on top of her was suddenly gone, and she stared up at the dark sky. Nathan had told her he didn’t like her with the bruises, and now she was going to have a couple more.
No one had come back to attack her.
Lifting up onto her elbows, she stared straight ahead. Both men were dead on the ground. She could tell by their necks being at odd angles. No one lay like that, not on purpose.
Someone else was there, though. He stood near the bodies.
His jeans tight to his body.
She lifted her gaze up, knowing, feeling it in every single part of her.
Tabitha paused at his chest and then forced herself to look into his eyes.
Simon stared back at her.
The boy who had left her now stood a few feet away, a man. His gaze cold. He panted. It was Simon, but he looked different. Gone were his boyish charms.
“You fucking bastard,” she said.
It was the last thing she said before the world went black.
****
“Did she faint?” Dean asked.
Simon stared at his woman. She lay on the ground. It was freezing cold and she wore a dress that didn’t exactly protect her from the elements.
After removing his leather jacket, he wrapped it around her and picked her up.
“She’s probably tired or something.”
“Or something?” Dean looked around. “Did you have to snap their necks?”
Simon had debated passing the woman fighting in the street. He’d watched her, the long blonde hair, and it made him ache for his woman. Tabby.
He didn’t know the pull, or at least he hadn’t understood it, but now he did. The blonde hair had reminded him of his woman because it had been her.
He’d been so fucking stupid.
Never would he make that mistake again.
Five years.
She was in his arms where she rightfully belonged.
“They don’t deserve to breathe the same air as her,” Simon said.
“Do you think she recognized you?” Dean asked, coming toward his side.
“Yeah, she did.” He held her in his arms and he didn’t like how light she felt. Tabby had always been a curvy woman. She liked her food. Ate a lot, and he loved that about her. He loved the smile on her lips after she smeared a fry in ketchup and popped it into her mouth. The big bites of burgers.
Pushing those thoughts out of his mind, he glanced down.
Tabitha was so fucking beautiful. All the photos he had no longer did her justice. They were all from a time that was so distant, he had to wonder if he’d really lived it. Neither of them was the same. Over the years, they had both changed.
Five years wasn’t a long time, but it was enough to change a person. He wasn’t the same.
Reaching out, he touched Tabitha’s hair. Still as soft as he remembered, but she wasn’t the same. The fighter in her, she was still fierce, but those men tonight, they’d been too much for her. She could have killed herself facing them. Why didn’t she run?
She was never a runner.