His gaze locked with Mitchel's, a smirk evident.

“For your part in freeing her, Mr. Dixon, my thanks."

His words taunted Mitchel, sparking Mitchel's fury that resulted in a punch that sent Henley sprawling, blood trickling from his mouth.

Henley, unyielding as never before, countered with a swift punch to Mitchel's jaw.

They scuffled, each refusing to yield.

In healthier days, Mitchel would've easily subdued Henley, but his recent illness left him winded after a few strikes.

Raegan cried out, desperate, "Enough! Stop it, Mitchel!"

Mitchel hesitated, his fist midair, which Henley used to taunt further, "I plan to court and marry Raegan."

That provoked Mitchel to another assault, only halting when Raegan rushed in, pushing him back. She then turned to Henley, concern etched on her face.

“Are you hurt, Henley?"

Despite his worse condition, Henley had ceased his attack when he heard Raegan's words, unlike Mitchel, who seemed reluctant to stop.

"I'm alright," Henley assured Raegan gently.

The sight pained Mitchel.

Mitchel grasped Raegan's arm, his eyes bloodshot with emotion.

“Is he truly who you want?"

Raegan was just irritated. Was that even a choice? Mitchel's absurdity was laughable.

The notion of being in anyone's debt irked her. Now, with Henley injured on her account, her stress multiplied.

With distinct irritation, she retorted, "Mitchel, I believed it was clear we're done. Why continue hurting my friend?"

Having said that, she assisted Henley to his feet, preparing to head to the car.

Mitchel momentarily saw himself as a clown, the butt of his own joke.