There was no time for him to pause to enjoy the picture of the big guy rolling in agony on the sidewalk. T.S. spun back around to Missy and her other attacker. The guy was wrestling with her, but she was holding her own, scratching at his face, jabbing at him with her keys. Her attacker brought his hand back, curling his fingers into a fist.

T.S. roared and leapt forward, grabbing the guy’s hand and using his grip to pull him away from Missy. “Run,” he yelled at her.

This new opponent was wiry but tough. He smirked at T.S. then pulled out a knife. It was long and sharp with a black handle and a silver pommel shaped like a skull. And from the way he held it, he was obviously a pro at using it.

He took a swipe and T.S. jumped back, barely keeping the blade from slicing through his coat. He kicked out and hit the guy’s knee. The leg buckled, but his opponent danced aside before T.S. could follow through with a punch.

Missy edged along the building, moving steadily around the guy. Why the hell wasn’t she running back to Lucas’ place like he’d told her?

The knife swung toward T.S. again and he jumped back. The blade ripped through his sleeve. The guy obviously kept his blade sharp, damn him. T.S. was going to have to pay for the damage to the damn tuxedo rental.

The guy on the ground was stirring, rolling to his knees. T.S. spun around, delivering a roundhouse kick to his head and the guy hit the pavement again.

That moment of inattention cost T.S. as knife guy jabbed at him. He felt the blade sink into his upper arm and swore as he jerked back out of range. He dimly heard Missy yelling and sirens getting closer. All his attention was on the man currently trying to slice and dice him.

Footsteps echoed on the pavement behind him. T.S. didn’t dare turn to see who it was. He hoped like hell it was the cops. His arm was beginning to hurt like a motherfucker, but he ignored the pain and the blood seeping from the wound.

Knife guy’s eyes widened and he whirled around and took off running. T.S. wanted to chase the guy and grind him into the sidewalk, but he couldn’t leave Missy. The footsteps were closer now and he could hear someone yelling. He turned to face this newest threat.

“Thank you.” Missy threw herself into his arms. His injured arm protested but he ignored it. She was safe and she felt so damn good snuggled close to him. Nothing else mattered. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight to his chest, breathing a sigh of relief.

“You’re okay?” He pushed her away and studied her face in the dim light coming from the street lamp.

She nodded and tugged her coat closed, but not before he caught a glimpse of her ripped dress and what appeared to be nail marks on her skin.

A low growl of anger was ripped from him. Missy’s eyes widened but she didn’t move away from him.

“You okay, man?” Lucas was beside him, tugging at his coat. “Let me look at your arm. You’re cut.”

“I’m fine,” he protested, not wanting Missy to move away from him.

“Ohmygod, you’re hurt.” Her gaze went to his hand and he realized there was no hiding the blood dripping from his fingertips.

“I’m fine,” he assured her. Although the pain was sharp as Lucas helped him remove his coat, he was alert. He’d had worse. But not in a lot of years.

A black and white pulled up next to them, lights flashing, but siren now off. Two officers climbed out of their vehicle, guns drawn. “What’s going on here?”

Missy stepped forward into the light and both men slowly lowered their weapons. “I was attacked.” She pointed her finger at the guy sitting on the sidewalk with Cain Benjamin, who had come with Lucas from the wedding reception, standing next to him like a sentinel. “By him and another guy. One got away.” She pointed down the road. “Skinny white guy, about five foot ten, black jacket, white T-shirt, brown hair, dead blue eyes. He has a knife.”

One officer reached back into the car and grabbed the radio. While he was calling in to dispatch, the other officer came over. “What happened to him?” he pointed at T.S.

“He saved me.” Missy’s voice quavered and T.S. pushed Lucas aside and drew her into his arms, ignoring the blood seeping from his injury.

“It’s okay. Everything is okay.”

“And who are all of you?” the officer asked.

It was Lucas who responded. “Friends. They were both at my wedding reception just down the road. Missy called on her cell phone, her voice frantic. When she said she was being attacked, we all ran down.”

T.S. noted there were six other friends from the reception besides Lucas and Cain. Justin was there but, now that the cops were there, he melted into the shadows and disappeared. No one else noticed in all the confusion. T.S. couldn’t blame him. He wouldn’t mind doing the same thing and taking Missy with him.

Missy was shaking and he knew it was a combination of cold and shock. “I need a blanket.”

One officer put cuffs on the guy T.S. had brought down while the other one got a blanket and tried to put it around Missy. T.S. took it from him and put it around her shoulders himself.

More footsteps pounded on the sidewalk. He glanced up and almost smiled. Candy raced down the sidewalk. She was wearing sneakers and an old leather jacket over her wedding dress. Katie Benjamin was right behind her.

“Missy!” Candy cried and went immediately to her best friend.

T.S. hated to release Missy, but he suddenly wasn’t feeling so good. His stomach was queasy and the world was slightly blurry. He blinked to clear his vision, which worked, but he wavered slightly. Not good. Lucas caught him before he fell.

“Hey, buddy.” Lucas ripped the arm off T.S.’ already-destroyed shirt and wrapped it around the injury, which was now throbbing nonstop. “Time to get you to a hospital. You’re going to need stitches.”

“Only if Missy goes too.” He dug in his heels on this. He wanted a doctor to check her over and clean those scratches on her upper chest.

“You’re both going.” Candy stood beside Missy, determination radiating from her. She might be small but she was fierce when it came to protecting those she loved. T.S. liked that about her.

Another police car arrived along with the EMTs. They’d get this mess all sorted out, but only after Missy was seen by a doctor.

* * *

Several hours later, Missy sat in the hospital emergency room and stared at the door to the treatment rooms. T.S. was in there, waiting to get stitches. Stitches. It was still hard to believe he’d taken down two attackers by himself. He’d arrived just in the nick of time. She shuddered at the thought of what might have happened if he hadn’t.

“You okay?” It was about the hundredth time her best friend had asked her.

“I’m fine, Candy. You should go home. Both of you.” Lucas sat beside his wife, his arm protectively around her. “This is your wedding night.”

“Night’s not over yet.” Lucas’ droll remark made her laugh.

“I suppose not. But it soon will be.”

Lucas hooked a fallen lock of hair over Candy’s ear. “There’s always tomorrow. And I’m not leaving until I know T.S. is okay.”

Missy gave silent thanks for such wonderful friends. Not only Candy and Lucas but all the rest of the party guests who’d come to her rescue. The police had taken her statement here at the hospital. She knew all the others had gone back to Lucas’ place to answer questions.

An officer went in to talk to T.S., but had left a while ago with a promise to contact her when her statement was ready to be signed and if they caught her other attacker.

Missy pulled her coat closer around her. The blanket the nice officer had given her had disappeared while she was being seen by a doctor. She had some bruises and a few scratches, which had been cleaned. Her wrist was sore, but it was only a mild sprain. Otherwise she was fine.

But she felt dirty. Violated.

She wanted to go home and soak in a hot tub and scrub her skin until she couldn’t feel their hands on her anymore. She shivered.

“Are you cold?”

Candy’s concern had tears pricking at her eyes. Missy shrugged. “A little.”

Lucas rose without a word and returned a few minutes later with a cup of steaming hot chocolate. He put the paper cup in her hand and wrapped her fingers around it. “I figured the chocolate was safer than the coffee here.”

Missy nodded her thanks. If she spoke, she was afraid she’d burst into tears, which didn’t make any sense. She was fine. Everything was…fine.

She was halfway through the surprisingly tasty hot chocolate when a nurse wheeled T.S. out through the door in a wheelchair. Missy put the cup on the low table beside her and stood on shaky legs.

Lucas reached T.S. first. “How you doing, man?”

“A dozen stitches,” the nurse informed him. “But he’ll be fine with a few days’ rest.” She patted T.S. on his good arm. “Get that prescription filled and be sure to take all the antibiotics. Use the painkillers when you need them. Don’t be a macho guy.”

T.S. grunted, his eyes searching the waiting room. They stopped when they hit her. He stood and took a step toward her. Missy’s legs propelled her toward him without her having to prod them. She stopped about a foot from him.

“Are you okay?” His soft voice and deep concern wrapped around her better than any blanket.

“That should be my question,” she countered. He looked pale, but still as tough as ever. He was wearing a thin green top from a set of scrubs. His own shirt had obviously been ruined by blood and totally destroyed when they’d cut it off him. His dress jacket was draped over his good arm.