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Draven relaxed into a defensive stance as they came at him. He wasn’t worried that it was five against one. If they knew what he was capable of, they all would have heeded his warning. The first one swung at Draven, but he was able to dodge the hit. Draven was fast and swift with his response. Two maneuvers, and the man was left writhing on the ground.
Draven turned in time to block the next fist. He had trained for years, and none of these men matched him. If Brett wanted to be dirty and have his buddies jump him, then Draven hoped Brett would visit them in the hospital, because that’s where they all were headed. Draven didn’t give anyof the men an opportunity to breathe. His movements were fast and precise.
“Who is this fucker?” One of them grunted.
They all must have assumed they would be able to easily overpower Draven. Everyone in town may have known he was a Marine, but they would never know the dangerous man the military had released into civilian life. Draven’s fist landed on his jaw. A reverberating crack echoed behind it. He would be eating through a straw for a few weeks. Hands gripped Draven from behind, but it didn’t matter. He was able to break the hold and spun around. The guy’s eyes widened; Draven turned on him. A growl escaped Draven. He threw a punch at Draven and narrowly missed. Draven rushed him, landing two of his own punches. It had been a long while since he’d had to physically defend himself, but his motions were automatic. They could even be considered artistic.
Within minutes, all of Brett’s friends lay spread out on the ground. Draven was barely out of breath and riding the high of his adrenaline. He hadn’t been in control of himself. His basic instincts had taken over. That was something he had learned to hone in the military. Kill or be killed. He turned just in time to see Brett swinging a bat at him.
“Dodge this!” Brett shouted.
Sirens blared in the background, coming closer. Draven ignored them. He raised his arm just as the bat connected with it instead of his head. Draven ignored the pain. He used Brett’s momentum against him by grabbing on to the bat himself and yanked Brett to him. His fist hit the side of Brett’s face. The bat fell to the ground, forgotten. Draven snatched Brett by the shirt and lifted him and slammed him on the ground.
He followed him down and launched his fist into Brett’s face. Satisfaction filled him at the sound of nasal bones cracking. Draven drew his arm back again and repeated the action.
“That’s enough. You’re going to kill him,” a voice snapped.
Arms encircled Draven and pulled him off Brett. Draven growled and tried to throw them off him; they struggled to drag him away from Brett. Draven’s gaze was locked on the unmoving form of the ass who had started all of this shit.
“Sheriff’s department. Stand down.”
Something clicked in Draven’s head. The fight went out of him. They quickly flipped them over and yanked his arms behind his back. Cold, hard steel clamped down around his wrists. He lifted hishead, and it was then he took in the scene. Brett and his men were laid out on the ground of the gas station. Patrol cars with flashing lights had entered the station and were parked around them.
“Draven!” a familiar voice screamed.
He jerked his head around and saw Cashea being held back by a uniformed officer.
Tears streamed down her face. “Why are you arresting him? They attacked him!”
“Please remain calm, ma’am. We need to finish securing the scene,” the officer said.
He pushed her back, and that move didn’t sit well with Draven. He growled and tried to get up but he was immediately restrained even further with two knees to his back.
“Stay down,” one of the two officers who held him down snarled.
The handcuffs wouldn’t truly hold him back. He growled again, needing to get to Cashea. He needed to explain what she had witnessed. Now that he was coming back to himself, he needed her to understand that he was no longer the person the military had groomed him to be.
“Please let me go to him,” she hiccupped.
Her eyes connected with his, and thefight went out of him. She appeared to be safe, and there was no disgust or horror on her face. There was nothing but concern.
For him.
“You are arresting the wrong man. He was defending himself. They jumped him,” she cried out.
She tried to get past the officer again, but he held her back.
“Stop touching her,” Draven yelled. He bucked again.
The officers holding him down cursed and pressed their entire bodies down on him.
“Ed, let her through,” someone shouted.
Cashea dashed past him and sprinted over to Draven. She fell to her knees next to him. He relaxed now that he could see her up close and personal. She didn’t have a scratch on her.
“Did they hurt you?” She sniffed.
“Are you okay?” he asked. He ignored her question. The only thing that would have caused him true pain was if something had happened to her. Outside of his knuckles, he was fine. They would be swollen and painful for a while, but they would heal.
