Page 193 of Salvatore

A gunshot has me ducking for cover, my scream lost to a sea of violent bird shrieks.

My arm is released. The guard stumbles backward with a cry.

“Ivy.” Salvatore’s shout is louder this time, closer as I stare numbly at the guard clutching his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

I’m swung around to face stark, dark eyes, wild with fear.

I nod. “I’m fi?—”

I don’t get to finish the placation before Salvatore releases me and launches at the man, crash-tackling him to the ground.

His fist smashes into the man’s jaw with a sickening crunch. There’s another punch, then another—sharp, punishing blows that split skin and paint his knuckles red.

“Salvatore.” My voice is weak, barely a whisper of noise through the birds' chaos.

He doesn’t stop. He keeps pummeling. Keeps brutalizing the man beneath him who can barely raise his arms in a vain attempt to shield his face—blow after merciless blow—as more guards rush forward.

“Salvatore,” I plead. “Please stop.”

He doesn’t listen. I’m not sure he can. He’s lost to the violence. Caught up in madness.

“Salvatore,please.” I approach, hoping to snap him out of it by placing a hand on his back.

“Don’t intervene.” Another guard grabs for me. “You’ll get?—”

Salvatore cuts his attention to us—no, to the man touching me—his breaths sawing in and out, chest heaving, posture tense. “Get your fucking hand off her.”

“I’m no threat.” The guard raises his palms in surrender, retreating slowly. “I just didn’t want her getting hurt.”

“Maybe that should’ve been your priority when one of your own was threatening her.” Salvatore rests on his haunches, fingers twitching, gaze livid as he scans the four armed men surrounding us. “Why was he allowed near her?”

The guard beneath him barely moves. He’s a beaten mess of groaning flesh and blood.

“I was approaching to investigate when you shot him,” another man offers. “He hasn’t been on the team long. I assumed?—”

“Don’t ever fucking assume.” Salvatore climbs to his feet. “Take him to the basement.”

My blood chills as the guards obey, grabbing the barely conscious man by his arms and feet to drag him toward the house.

Salvatore closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, his knuckles bloodied and swelling.

I keep my mouth shut, giving him a minute, letting the anger ebb before I whisper, “I’m sorry.”

I’m not exactly sure what I’m sorry for, only that I’m one hundred percent sure I am as the bird chatter settles to a more tolerable hum.

“I thought he was going to kill you,” he growls.

I nod. “I can understand that, but?—”

“No, you can’t.” His arm drops to his side. “I thought I’d fucking lost you. That I was about to watch someone in my uncle’s employ take you the fuck away from me.”

I drag in a guilty breath as I remain barefoot on the lawn while he’s all tall and broad and seeming so much larger than usual, the aggression coursing through him giving a Hulk-like effect.

“I’m fine. He only wanted to talk?—”

“This is what I can’t deal with, Ivy.” He bridges the space between us in a hostile step. “I can’t fucking do it.”

I blink in confusion. “You can’t do what?”

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