“You fucking bastard!” Dillon seethes, slipping his hand from mine and racing toward the couple screwing against the side of the barn.
“Dil, no!” Ash cries, dropping her dress and quickly pulling her panties up her legs. “Go!” she yells at the unfamiliar man with the dirty-blond hair and panicked expression. She shoves his shoulders as he rebuttons his jeans with shaky fingers. His wedding ring glints in the late afternoon sun, and I instantly know who he is.
“Oh, Ash,” I whisper, coming out of my comatose state and running toward my friend.
“I’m going to kill you, you motherfucking bastard,” Dillon yells, charging Ash’s married ex.
Dillon grabs him around the throat, throwing him up against the wall of the barn as Ash stands rooted to the ground, horrorstruck. I pull my friend into my arms, and she immediately comes apart, sobbing against my shoulder. “I’m a horrible person. What have I done?” she cries, clutching my dress and clinging to me.
I’m torn between comforting my friend and preventing my boyfriend from being hauled in on a murder charge. “Dillon, stop!” I shout, cradling Ash in my arms as he throws Cillian to the ground, jumps on top of him, and starts punching him with his fists.
Cillian is tall and stocky, and I’m sure he could take Dillon on and it’d be fairly evenly matched, but he’s not fighting back. He’s letting my boyfriend beat the living daylights out of him. I don’t know the man, but I guess he’s carrying at least some guilt over what happened. Whether that’s now, or in the past, I’m unsure.
“Dillon. That’s enough!” I call out as blood flies from Cillian’s nose spraying Dillon’s shirt. Dillon’s fists keep flying, and Cillian is fighting back now. Panic is clear in his eyes. He’s afraid Dillon is going to kill him, and so am I.
“Ash, babe. I’m going to put you down on the ground, but I’ll be back.” She nods, looking dazed as I place her on the ground. Tears stream down her face, and I ache for her. She will beat herself up for this when she sobers up.
Rushing to where Dillon and Cillian are, I drop down on the ground, putting my face all up in my boyfriend’s. “Dillon.” I cup his face, repeating his name, asking him to stop over and over, but he’s in his own little world. Cillian groans, swinging his fists, trying to push Dillon off, but it’s like Dillon is fueled with supernatural fighting ability. He just keeps striking him, and if he doesn’t stop, he will cause serious damage. A few of Cillian’s punches get through, hitting Dillon in the face and the stomach, but it’s not enough to stop him.
The situation calls for drastic measures, and I spring into action, yanking fistfuls of Dillon’s hair and pulling his head back. He has a cut lip, and one of his eyes is swollen. Acting on instinct, I smash my lips to his, pushing my tongue into his mouth as I kiss him hard.
I need to bring him back to me, and this is the only way I can think to get through to him. Gradually, I feel him loosening against me, kissing me back, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Until I’m shoved from behind, and Dillon and I tumble to the side, away from Cillian.
Fresh rage builds behind Dillon’s eyes as he helps me to my feet, pushing me behind him, using his body to shield me as he faces off against his former friend. Wrangling out of his hold, I move to his side, grabbing him to keep him from charging again. “You cheating cunt! You stay the hell away from my sister, and if you ever touch my girlfriend again, I’ll fucking kill you!” Dillon roars.
“You’re a crazy bastard, O’Donoghue.” Cillian sways on his feet, spitting blood onto the ground. He lifts the hem of his shirt, using it to dab blood off his face. “I let you have the first few punches, because I deserved those, but you don’t get to threaten me, asshole. Your sister wanted it. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Except cheat on your wife,” I hiss.
“This is nothing to do with you.” He jabs his finger in my direction. “Butt out.”
Dillon jerks forward, and I grab his shirt, yanking him back. “Let it go,” I say, working hard to sound calm. “This ends now.”
“Like fuck it does,” Cillian yells. He points his finger at Dillon. “I’ll have you arrested for assault, you prick.” Clutching his middle, he grimaces.
“I’ll have you arrested for trespassing,” Ash shouts, climbing to her feet, as she appears to emerge from her fugue state.
I step forward, glaring at the degenerate in front of me, done with playing nice. “You will not press charges against Dillon. If you even breathe a word of what happened here today, we will go straight to your wife and your parents and tell them you’ve been stalking Ash for months and you forced yourself on her today when she was stoned and incapable of pushing you away.”