Chapter 11Theo #2
I don’t know how I didn’t cause a five-car collision, but I pulled a U-turn on the main stretch and cranked it from a normal 35 miles per hour to about 85 in seconds.
I didn’t slow down at yellow lights. Laws were a thing of the past. The backroads were dark, but I didn’t slow down, the car racing to my destination.
Asher’s apartment complex came into view. I didn’t even waste time trying to find a normal parking spot. I parked in front of the building, put on my blinkers, and raced to the front door.
That feeling was back. The feeling that comes when you know something in your gut. That kind of intuition is never wrong. When something inside screams at you to act now or forever regret it, then you fucking move.
I didn’t buzz Asher’s apartment because I wanted to know what was really happening.
My fingers pushed every button at the complex except for Asher’s, praying to God that one of the residents would let me in. It was midnight, so I knew the chances were slim.
Please let someone be waiting for a midnight munchies delivery.
I startled at the harsh buzzing sound. Someone was letting me in. I ripped open the doors and ran up the fucking stairs faster than I’d ever moved in my life.
I reached Asher’s apartment door, and I heard it—fucking heard it.
The crisp sound of flesh being smacked. Grunts and tussling. A booming voice saying something vile. Then a crash. I recognized the voice screaming back.
It’s him. Asher. He’s fighting back. I could hear the scuffle between two men, and my entire body reacted.
I threw myself against the door.
I did it again.
And again.
The old door started to give, so I pulled back and gave the fucker a hard kick.
It flew open, and I saw Asher lying on the hallway floor, fighting for his life against some fucker with black hair who was on top of him. His hands were around Asher’s throat.
My vision turned red. A high-pitched sound rang out in my ears. I didn’t feel my body approach, but one moment I was at the doorway and, the next, I was grabbing the fucker on top of Asher by his hair and throwing him into the kitchen.
Sound returned. A woman was screaming, threatening to call the police.
Fuck it. Let her.
I approached the monster writhing on the ground and kicked him once in the stomach and once in the head.
He started wailing as blood poured from his nose.
He tried to crawl away, but I grabbed him by the back of his head and tossed him in the opposite direction.
His body crashed into the cabinets lining the kitchen.
I closed the distance between us. I wasn’t thinking anymore.
I just wanted to end the fucker’s life because he hurt Asher. My buddy. My best friend.
My fist came down with a vengeance, smashing that fucker’s face. Someone grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back. Hands gripped the side of my face, and Asher came into view.
“Theo! Theo, look at me. Look at me. Not him. Look. At. Me.”
I did, and I saw Asher. He was roughed up. My hands gripped the sides of his face, and I scanned him for injuries. His nose was bleeding, his clothes were torn, but I didn’t see anything really bad, like broken bones.
“Breathe,” he gently urged.
I did. The burning rage started to cool off, and my concern for Asher took over. “Pack a bag. You’re coming with me.”
Fear flashed through his eyes, and he began to protest, but I stopped him.
“Asher. This isn’t a request.” I spoke in a low, direct tone because I wanted to signal that there would be no debate on the matter.
“Pack a bag. You’re not staying here. You are coming home with me, and that’s it.
Period.” A stand-off ensued. Both of us were holding each other’s faces, our eyes locked.
The sound of his bitch mother running to the loser on the floor and helping him made me sick.
I narrowed my eyes on them, ready to give her a piece of my mind, when Asher said, “Okay. Okay. Just…don’t do anything else. Come with me, okay?”
I followed him into his bedroom, the sound of his mother yelling awful things at her son turning me into a man fueled by wrath alone. “If I hear one more fucking word out of you, I will finish what I started with that piece of shit on the floor.”
That one shut her up. Good. Asher grabbed clothes, toiletries, hockey shit, whatever he could fit in that duffel bag of his.
Before he could hoist it over his shoulder, I took it from him. “I’ve got it. Go ahead, I’ll be down in a second.”
Asher looked at me warily. “Theo, please—”
I replied using the same tone from before, the one that leaves no room for argument. “Asher. Go downstairs. I’m right behind you. Promise.”
I could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe me, but he left without argument. I walked back into the kitchen, where those two worthless scumbags were still on the floor. Asher’s mom was tending to the bastard’s wounds. It felt good knowing I caused his pain.
He saw me and tried to scramble back, but he was wedged against the cabinets with nowhere to go. I slowly approached, standing over them. “If I see you two near him ever again, I will fucking kill you. Do you understand?”
They said nothing. They just blinked in horror, so I repeated, “Do. You. Understand?”
Frantic nodding was followed by the dude cursing at me to get the fuck out, or they were going to call the cops. Whatever.
I made my way downstairs to find Asher waiting for me. I motioned for him to leave, and together we went to my car.