Jonathan's POV
Time was running out on everything I thought I could control.
"Don't kill him, Jonathan! For crying out loud!"
"He just confessed to putting his hands on my wife!"
"Just shut up and listen! Let the man talk and help us get Savannah back. He's a creep, but we need him breathing to find my friend!"
The guy was sprawled on his back, gasping for air. I hadn't even hit him that hard. He'd crawled out from some dark corner like a cartoon villain, his teeth barely holding on when he opened his mouth to speak.
My brother was never much of a fighter, but he must have landed enough punches to make this fool stupid enough to admit harassing my wife right in front of me. Her husband.
His grin stretched wider when Ethel shoved the stack of bills into his palm. Had to be her life savings, or at least a serious chunk of it, judging by how his hand shook under the weight of all that cash.
Pathetic, really.
