That fateful night when he found her soiled and ripped in her wedding gown—Dane thought that would be the worst of her misfortunes. But he was wrong. Her misfortune shed to light under moon shadows and passing car lights that honked at them to move but he didn't care about them. All he cared about was the fugitive before him
He took in her sweet tears that fell once she saw him, her bruised lips, the dreadful marks on her neck, and how torn her shirt appeared so it revealed her breasts. There was this dangerous fire that burned inside him watching her become so broken in front of him. His breath hitched when she ran into his arms.
Prisana's little petite body trembled as she clutched his chest. She sighed as she sniffed his familiar scent. Dane's hands almost wrapped over her but he stopped when the cab in front honked at them. The window rolled down to an elderly Asian man staring them down.
