14 #2
Then Briggs cleared his throat, careful in a way that didn’t belong on him. “Okay. We can emotional-intervention another day. Right now, Wade needs ice, probably a doctor, and somebody to make sure he doesn’t return to the parking lot for bonus crimes.”
Rider nodded. “We’ll get him home.”
“No,” I said.
Everyone looked at me.
My hand tightened around my phone. The screen was still dark from the call I barely remembered ending. My pulse was doing something stupid, slamming against my ribs too fast and too loudly, but the decision settled anyway.
“I’ll take him.”
Easton’s head turned toward me.
Briggs frowned. “Aura, I say this with love and fear, but that sounds like an emotionally catastrophic hurricane-meets-tornado-in-a-vehicle situation.”
“I didn’t ask for a weather report.”
“It’s not weather. It’s two natural disasters in a compact space.”
“Briggs,” Rider said quietly.
“No, seriously.” Briggs looked between Easton and me, his face drawn with worry now that the adrenaline had nowhere to go.
“You’re both raw as hell. He’s bleeding.
You’re shaking. The night has already featured public trauma exposure, an outdoor felony-adjacent beatdown, and enough unresolved feelings to choke a therapist. Maybe separate cars are our friend. ”
“I’m taking him,” I said.
Cade stepped forward, his voice even. “Aura, tonight might not be the best time for you two to be alone.”
Something inside me snapped tight.
I looked at him, then Bliss, then Briggs and Rider, then Ryan still holding Charm like he had no intention of letting her go until she could breathe correctly again.
“No,” I said. “Everyone is going to butt the fuck out of this.”
The room stilled.
I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t need to. The words came out clean and sharp enough to make space around me.
“All night, everyone has had something to say. Don’t fight.
Don’t react. Don’t go outside. Don’t be alone.
Don’t do this now. Don’t do that tonight.
I’m done. I am very grateful you all came.
I’m grateful you care. I’m grateful you didn’t let him finish rearranging Maddox’s face into abstract art.
But this thing between Easton and me is not a group project. ”
Bliss inhaled, but she didn’t interrupt.
Good.
I couldn’t survive being interrupted right then.
“I’m taking him to Hockey House,” I said. “He needs ice, a shower, and probably someone to make sure his hand isn’t broken. I can handle that.”
Easton’s mouth twitched, but it looked more like pain than amusement. “You can?”
I shot him a look. “You want to test me in front of witnesses?”
His gaze held mine.
He looked wrecked. Bruised and bloodied, his mouth split, knuckles raw, shirt still damp from the rain, and every inch of him vibrating with the kind of violence that hadn’t burned out just because Maddox remained on the pavement outside.
Nothing about him looked soft. Nothing about him looked healed.
That was what made my stomach twist.
Easton didn’t look at me like he needed me.
He looked at me like he finally understood enough to hate the right people, and I didn’t know what to do with that.
For all this time, that hate had been mine.
Every cold stare, every girl, every vicious comment, and every brutal little reminder that I wasn’t welcome near him anymore had been aimed directly at my chest.
Tonight, it had turned.
I could still feel it coming off him, hot, savage, and barely leashed, but for once, I wasn’t the thing he wanted to destroy with it.
I was the thing standing behind it.
And somehow, that was worse.
I knew Easton angry. I knew Easton cruel. I knew Easton with his pride bleeding and his mouth sharpened around every word he wanted to hurt me with.
I did not know what to do with Easton Wade looking at the rest of the world like it had touched something that belonged to him.
Briggs threw his hands out. “I’m all for whatever intense eye-contact contract just happened, but can someone acknowledge he might need medical attention?”
“I’ll look at his injuries,” I said.
“You’re pre-law.”
“And bossy. Between the two, I’ll figure it out.”
Rider glanced at Easton. “You sure?”
Easton didn’t look away from me. “Yeah.”
Briggs stared at him. “That was far too easy for a man with your control issues.”
Easton finally looked toward him. “Let us sort this shit out.”
Briggs closed his mouth.
Rider nodded once. “Fine.”
Cade didn’t look happy, but his arm tightened around Bliss before he said, “Text when you get there.”
“I will.”
Bliss looked at me like she wanted to hug me and knew better than to try. “I love you.”
My throat tightened. “I love you too.”
Charm lifted her head from Ryan’s chest, her eyes red and glossy. “Ay.”
I shook my head once, softer this time. “Tomorrow, Cee.”
She nodded and pressed her lips together while Ryan’s hand moved slowly over her back.
Hannah came over with a plastic bag full of ice wrapped in towels and shoved it against Easton’s chest with more force than necessary. “Put this on your face and ribs before you scare customers who enjoy symmetry.”
Easton took it. “Thanks.”
“I’m not thanking you for the parking-lot redecorating.”
“Understood.”
“And you,” she said, pointing toward me. “Text me when you’re home. Don’t make me call Bliss for translation.”
I nodded because arguing with Hannah after she had threatened half the basketball team felt disrespectful to her range.
The walk to my car happened inside a strange pocket of quiet.
Rain had softened into mist, clinging to my hair and cooling the heat still trapped beneath my skin.
Easton walked beside me, too close and not close enough, the ice bag pressed against his cheek and his other hand flexing at his side like he was only now realizing how much it hurt.
Neither of us spoke until I unlocked the car.
He opened the passenger door, then paused with one hand against the frame.
“I don’t live at Hockey House anymore,” he said.
I looked at him over the roof of my car.
The parking-lot lights caught the bruise near his cheekbone, the blood at his mouth, and the exhaustion carved into his face beneath all that stubborn, brutal control.
For some reason, that hurt almost as much as everything else.
“What?”
His eyes remained on mine. “I moved out.”
The mist fell between us, cold and soft and impossible to hold.
“Where?” I asked.
Easton looked away first, toward the wet street, the darkness beyond the Sin Bin, and everything we had left burning behind us.
“My apartment,” he said.
Then he got into my car and shut the door.