by Izzy Sweet
The last thing I need right now is to be getting all boy crazy over some guy. For fuck’s sake, I caught my boyfriend cheating on me yesterday.
But no matter how much I urge the beat of my heart to slow down, it always seems to pick up when he’s around, and it’s annoying the hell out of me.
What the hell is it about this guy?
Yeah, he’s hot… with that smile… and those muscles… and those dark, soulful eyes… but so are most of the guys strutting around this place, and not a single one of them has had this affect on me.
In fact, compared to a lot of the other guys, he seems kind of… broken in a way.
Everyone’s been talking about him today, and the things they’re saying aren’t exactly great. Apparently, he’s been drowning himself in the bottom of bottle since his best friend passed away.
And I have no doubt that what they’re saying is true because I swear I got the faintest whiff of alcohol off of him when he introduced himself to me.
Even Chase has gone the big brother route and warned me away in his own way.
But my stupid body and heart don’t seem to be listening. He’s the last thing I need… Hell, with all the shit I have going on, I’m the last thing he needs.
Forcing myself to tear my gaze away, I push through the front doors and out into the near-blinding sunlight.
And nearly crash into an old lady and a little boy.
“Sorry,” I mumble and quickly grab the door, holding it open for them.
“It’s okay, dear,” the lady smiles at me, but the little boy just glares and stomps on past me.
Damn, if looks could kill…
And double damn, if he doesn’t look a little young to be so angry. He can’t be more than ten… or twelve…
Fuck, I don’t know.
Gaze trailing after the two of them, I realize I’m staring and shake my head. Letting go of the door, I make my way down the side of the building, searching out a bit of shade.
Then I do the one thing I’ve been dreading to do all day, I pull out my phone.
A sigh of relief slips out of me once I see I don’t have any new messages on my screen. It might be wishful thinking, but I can’t help but hope that Tristan has given up on me.
For the life of me, I still can’t understand why he would even want to still be with me. If anything, you’d think he’d be happy to be rid of me.
Before I can get too hopeful though I realize it’s a little strange that my father hasn’t been in touch, and the fact that he hasn’t is worrying.
Maybe he hasn’t heard the news yet?
I double-check to make sure I didn’t accidentally block him when I blocked Tristan and Ashley. But no, he’s still there, unblocked and at the top of my contacts.
Perhaps he doesn’t give a shit that I broke up with the son of his biggest campaign donor…
Fuck, who am I kidding? I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t disown me.
The worry growing inside me until it’s a basketball of pure dread, I gulp down some more coffee and seriously consider giving him a call to get the fallout over with.
Maybe if he hears it from my lips, he won’t be quite as angry.
Thumb hovering over my screen, I’m just about to hit the call button when I hear a car door slam and someone calling my name behind me.
“Bree?”
Every tiny, microscopic hair on my body stands on end at the sound of that voice.
How the hell did he find me?
Pulse racing and breath quickening, I don’t turn around, hoping that my head is so messed up I’m only hearing things.
Best case scenario, I’ve finally gone completely batshit crazy.
But no, my name hits my ears again, closer this time. “Bree!”
Whipping around, I stare in horrified shock as Tristan walks toward me from the parking lot.
“What the fuck are you doing here?!” I blurt out in panic.
Seriously, how the fuck did he find me? I blocked him on everything.
Another car door slams and my eyes are instantly drawn to the sound. Tristan’s best friend, Spencer, leans against the side of his black BMW and gives me a snarky grin and wave.
Fuck. Fuck my life.
I may have blocked Tristan and Ashley, but my dumbass forgot to block everyone else to be safe.
Striding across the parking lot with purpose, Tristan’s eyes burn into me as his long legs easily eat up the pavement between us.
“Why did you block my number?” he asks, a look of anger and hurt flashing across his face.
Glancing behind me, I look desperately for an escape. Unfortunately, I’m in the middle of the wall on the side of the building. I have no idea if there’s anything at the back of the building, and there’s no way I can get past Tristan to make it to the doors near the front.
An All-State track star, he’s too damn fast and athletic for me.
“Why did you block me, Bree? Why are you hiding? Are you cheating on me?” Tristan asks, his voice growing more and more heated the closer he gets to me.
Goddammit, he’s literally got me trapped between a rock and hard place, and something about it just pisses me off. It fills me with so much anger, I’m seeing red.
What right does he have to do this shit to me?
“Because we’re over, Tristan,” I say angrily, and lift my chin.
I’m feeling far too much like a trapped animal right now, and after what he did to me yesterday, I might bite if he pushes me.
“The fuck we are,” he growls out as he reaches me. “I told you yesterday, it doesn’t change anything. You’re still mine, Bree.”
“Doesn’t change anything?” I repeat incredulously. “Doesn’t change anything?! I caught you balls deep in Ashley. It changes everything. We’re done, we’re over. I don’t care what you do, but stay the hell away from me.”
Tristan steps into me, forcing me to press my spine into the brick wall to keep some space between us. There’s barely an inch between his chest and mine, and I have no choice but to arch my neck back if I don’t want to be stuck glaring at his neck.
Bastard. I know he’s purposely using his bigger size to try and intimidate me.
His voice drops to an angry hiss as he tries to explain, “It didn’t mean anything. She’s a stupid bitch and she means nothing to me. You’re the only one who matters to me.”
I don’t even know why I’m trying to argue with him on this. It’s obvious his logic and my logic do not mesh. I know I should press my lips together and give him the silent treatment. Freezing him out would probably be the best course of action.
But I just can’t stop myself from saying, my voice dripping with venom, “Oh, and that’s supposed to make it all better? I’m supposed to be okay with you fucking other girls because you really don’t give a shit about them? Fucking spare me.”
Tristan’s face flushes an angry red and he slams his hands against the brick wall, each barely missing me.
I find myself flinching and then becoming even angrier.
Yesterday, he used his size and strength to bully me. To make me feel afraid and powerless. And I’ve been carrying that scared, helpless feeling around inside me ever since.
It’s been festering.
Festering from fear to anger. And I’m so not putting up with it today.
He opens up his mouth, probably ready to spout some more convoluted bullshit at me, but I don’t give him a chance to get the words past lips.
“Go away, Tristan. Get the fuck away from me,” I warn.
I’m so upset, so angry, I’m starting to shake with it.
He leans down, pushing his face into my face. “No, I’m not going away, Bree. You’re coming back to California with me, even if I have to drag your ass back.”
The look he gives me causes the true weight of my current situation to slowly sink in like a cold finger dragging up my spine.
Staring into his eyes, into his sick, twisted determination, it finally dawns on me that I’m not
dealing with a rational man. He’s completely irrational, and if I don’t get myself out of this situation, things are only going to get worse.
He might seriously hurt me.
“Fine,” I huff, my emotions doing a complete one-eighty. The sudden, instinctive need to flee, to escape, is nearly overwhelming me. “Then I’ll leave.”
I try to duck under his arm, hoping to slip quickly past him before he can stop me. But when I’m about to pop back up on the other side, his hand comes down heavy on my shoulder.
“Don’t you dare try to run away from me,” he bellows in my face as he shoves me back into the wall.
My shoulders connect first with the hard brick, followed by the back of my head, and I cry out against the sharp bite of pain.
“You don’t get to leave until I say you can leave!” he continues to yell at me.
I’m so freaked out by his sudden aggression, I try to make myself as small as possible.
Chest heaving and huffing with his anger, Tristan watches me wrap my arms around myself and gives me a look full of disgust. “And fuck, don’t you dare look at me like that. Don’t fucking flinch, I barely touched you.”
I don’t even know how to respond to that, but thankfully before I have to, someone calls out, “Hey! Get away from her!”
Tristan doesn’t tear his gaze away from me as he shouts back, “Fuck off, this is between her and me.”
I want to see who called out, but as soon as I try to lean around Tristan, he pushes his body back into me.
Tristan leans down, following me as I shrink in on myself.
Grabbing me by the chin, his fingers pinch into my jaw bone as his voice drops to a hiss. “Don’t look at them, look at me. We’re not finished.”
“I said get away from her!” someone screams, and then suddenly Tristan is no longer in front of me.
It happened so damn fast it takes me two full blinks to realize Tristan is now sprawled out on the cement in front of me.
It takes me another two full blinks to see the angry boy who stomped by me earlier pushing himself off the ground.
Getting to his feet first, the boy clenches his hands into fists and looms over Tristan.
Chest heaving, the boy says, “Only pussies pick on girls!”
“You little fucking shit,” Tristan snarls as he starts to get to his feet.
Shock keeps me rooted to the spot, unable to move, a silent witness to the craziness that’s playing out in front of me. My mind just can’t seem to wrap around it until Tristan gets to his feet and I see the size difference between him and the boy.
There’s at least a foot and a half, if not more, of height difference between them.
I have no clue how old the boy is, my experience with kids is very limited, but I’d bet he can’t be older than twelve.
And I’m pretty sure the only reason he got the jump on Tristan was out of sheer surprise. Tristan wasn’t expecting it. Hell, I wasn’t expecting it.
But seeing the two of them square up on each other utterly terrifies me.
The boy doesn’t stand a chance.
As Tristan lunges for the boy, I react on pure, protective instinct. Jumping forward, I push my way between them.
“Tristan, no!” I scream, throwing my arms out to protect the boy.
Tristan either doesn’t want to stop himself or can’t stop himself because he barrels right into me.
Taking me down to the ground, the most horrible pain I’ve ever experienced in my life crashes into me as all the air whooshes out of my lungs.
“What the fuck is going on here?!” a new voice roars as I stare up at the sky, gasping for air.
Even as I struggle to cope with the pain, the voice is so strong, so thunderous, it seems to vibrate through my body.
“Are you okay?” someone asks from close by.
I think it’s the boy.
Wrapping my arm around my aching chest, I try to sit up and remember how to breathe at the same time.
“Here, let me help you…”
“Fuck,” I hear Tristan mutter as I finally get myself into a sitting position with the help of a hand on my back. “Fuck this shit.”
“Did you fucking hurt her?!” the roaring voice from earlier thunders out at the same time the boy tells me to relax, my air will come back.
I’m so focused on trying to fucking breathe, I can’t focus on what’s going on around me.
I have no clue who’s roaring, and I can’t bring myself to try and twist around to look, but part of me hopes it’s Chase.
Chase will protect us.
I don’t know why I believe that fact with every fiber of my being after only knowing him for a few days, but I do.
Footsteps pound against the pavement behind me just as I manage to drag in my first breath. The breath is almost blissful because I know now that I’m not going to suffocate to death, but at the same time it hurts like a bitch.
As I suck in the air though, I can’t relax like the boy is telling me to because I’m too aware of the precarious situation we’re still both in. Unfortunately, I can’t see much from down here on the ground, only Tristan’s legs.
And he’s too close, too fucking close… until suddenly he’s not.
The footsteps hitting the pavement behind us grow louder and louder.
And then suddenly Tristan’s legs are pumping as he takes off, running away from us.
It seems like only seconds later car doors are slamming and tires are squealing as someone peels out of the parking lot.
“Fuck you, you pussy! Get your ass back here and face me like a man!” the newcomer roars even louder than before.
The last word is so forceful and guttural it lingers like an echo in my head, repeating over and over again.
“Are you okay now?” the boy asks, his face appearing in front of my face.
There’s so much fear and worry in his expression, it makes him look young. So young a cold chill flows through me.
Goddammit, this boy, this child, tried to go up against Tristan to protect me.
“Yeah,” I croak out and try not to grimace as he continues to peer at me like he’s afraid I’m going to suddenly drop dead at any second. “I’m fine,” I force my lungs to add with a gasp. “Thank you for saving me.”
I try to will my lips to curve into a smile too, but they don’t quite manage it.
The boy’s brows scrunch together as if he doesn’t believe me, but he gives me a nod of his head.
Dammit, I don’t want him to worry about me. Yeah, my head is starting to throb with the beginning of a killer migraine, and my lungs ache like I breathed in a bunch of water… But fuck, I don’t want him to be traumatized by this shit.
Especially because it’s my shit.
As a wave of guilt washes over me, I strain my throbbing brain for a way to somehow fix this whole mess.
Is there even a way to fix it, though? I let everything spiral out of control for so long, it’s come to this…
“You’re my hero,” I decide to say before finally forcing my lips to obey me. “And yet I don’t even know your name…”
The boy begins to smile back at me until a shadow slides over us.
“Casey,” someone says from above.
Someone with a deep voice that’s a little hoarse from roaring.
I watch Casey’s smile slide off his face as he glances up.
I peer up too, my eyes squinting against the sunlight. It takes me a moment to make out the face silhouetted against the bright light, but when I do my stomach drops to my damn feet.
“Are you okay?” Emmett asks, his features tight with concern.
“Yeah… I’m fine,” Casey answers and then glances to me.
“Bree,” Emmett practically breathes as he turns that concerned look to me.
Our eyes meet and it feels like the air just got knocked out of me all over again.
Of course, out of all the big, strong guys in the gym who could have come to our rescue, it had to be him…
It had to be him to witness the worst of me.
I don’t even know why I care, but I do. I don’t want him to see me this way, especially with that damn look on his face.
Looming over me and staring me down, there’s this strange intensity in his gaze. A feral intensity that both terrifies me and excites me at the same time.
As I take in his heaving chest and the sweat glistening on his skin, I don’t know if I should throw myself at him or run away, screaming.
Before I can make up my mind, somehow my hand ends up in his hand and he pulls me up to my feet.
Grabbing me by my hips to help steady me, his eyes continue to bore into mine, never deviating, as he asks, “Are you okay? I saw that fucker take you down…”
His voice drops back down to an angry growl and I find myself shivering. What the hell? Is he half beast?
And why the hell do I find the sound of him growling so damn satisfying?
Still trapped in his eyes, at first words fail me. But as his gaze grows darker and darker, I finally manage to tear my attention away.
“I’m okay,” I offer softly.
Honestly, now that Tristan is gone and Casey is safe, I wish this whole thing would just go away.
I sure as fuck don’t want to have to explain it in any way.
“Are you sure?” Emmett’s hands leave my hips and then his warm palms are cupping my cheeks. Gently turning my face back to his face, his eyes dart all over me, searching. “You hit your head pretty hard.”
God help me, the way he’s touching me feels too damn good. It’s only his palms on my cheeks, but there’s something about the sensation of his skin against my skin that’s totally fucking with me.
Yet again, I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. Now is so not the time for this. After getting knocked around, I shouldn’t be getting all weak in the knees over this guy.
I open my mouth with the intention of downplaying what happened so I can make my escape, but Casey decides now is the best time to chime in with, “He also shoved her into a wall before I took him down. She’s hit her head twice.”
I start to scowl, but then Emmett’s face darkens. There’s so much anger, so much pure rage in his eyes, it’s almost awe-inspiring.
Like staring at a painting that moves you and disturbs you at the same time.