9. JACKSON #3
But Dev shoves Frankie and throws another punch. The crack of fist meeting bone shrieks through the hall. Frankie drops, head slamming into the tile floor, body limp.
No scream.
No sound.
Silence.
Dev drops on top of him just as I get my hands around Dev’s chest. I rip him off Frankie before he can land any more blows. Because I know, down to the marrow of my bones, he wouldn’t stop.
My gut seizes. Oh God. This is so bad.
Thundering footsteps grow louder, and then Nebs tears around the corner. “What’s going on? I heard—” His gaze finds his brother’s motionless form, and his words die.
Dev breaks free of my hold and tries to get back to Frankie.
Nebs dives over his brother, and Winters slams a hand into Dev’s chest. I snake an arm around his middle and yank him backward, but he’s fighting me hard.
I’m bigger, but he’s still a professional athlete, and what’s fueling him right now is ugly and dark and lends him strength.
“What the fuck happened?” Stone’s voice booms through the hall.
“Devereux assaulted Frankie,” Winters spits.
“Because he assaulted Olander,” Dev shouts. “That sick bastard is always perving on all of us. And the first chance he gets, he takes advantage of your intoxicated teammates.”
“Let’s just go, Dev.” I drag him backward toward the hallway. “Before you get yourself into more trouble.” Winters follows, hand to Dev’s chest, making it clear that if Dev breaks free, he’ll be facing the wrath of three of his teammates.
I spin us when we reach the hall and shove Dev down it. “Go. We’re leaving. Right fucking now.”
Oh my God. Oh my God.
All I can see is Frankie’s motionless form.
I don’t even register walking through the bar. My hand stays flat on Dev’s back as I push him unceremoniously to the door.
As soon as we get outside, he spins. “What the fuck was that, Olander?”
I ignore him, pull out my phone, and tap the ride-share app.
“I know he’s been perving on you, but I gotta say, I’m questioning why the fuck you’d be in the back of the bar with him. You’ve gotta be pretty fucking stupid to be lured back there. Which begs the question…”
I don’t respond. Just punch in Dev’s address.
“God damnit! Don’t tell me you’re one of them too.” He shakes his head at me, and it’s like he’s looking at a stranger. The years of friendship bleed from his eyes now that he sees what I’ve kept hidden.
But it wasn’t friendship. He was just one of my many jailors.
“I think it’s time to go home,” I say quietly.
He scoffs. “You think I’m getting in a car with you now?” He takes a step back.
My jaw tightens. “You think I would get in a fucking car with you, Dev? The only reason I’m out here with you right now is to make sure you stay the fuck away.” My fingers shake as I check my phone. “Your ride will be here in two minutes.”
“I can’t believe this. You’ve always agreed with the things I’ve said. I thought you understood how sick that is. And you’re one of them? Was that your way of infiltrating our circle? So you could perve on us too?”
He keeps spewing venom, and the words merge together in my head until I hear nothing at all. Just the constant hum of hate. My breath quickens, my blood burning through my skin. Frankie’s still form flashes.
I can’t take it any longer. I charge at Dev with a roar and take him down to the sidewalk.
“Get off me you fucking—oomph.”
My fist lands in his gut.
We roll, fingers digging into flesh, elbows jabbing.
He palms my face, pushing down as he uses my head for leverage to stand.
The sidewalk scrapes my cheek, but I barely feel the sting.
As soon as he’s off me, I roll. Dev comes for me, and I swing my leg and trip him, then jump to my feet and shove him back hard.
He regains his balance and ugliness stares back at me. We circle each other, chests heaving. He steps toward me just as headlights turn down the street.
“Your ride’s here.” My breaths burst from me. “Just go home, Dev.”
The car pulls up in front of the bar. Dev sweeps a glare over me, then spits on the ground, half of it landing on my shoe. I flinch. Then he opens the door and disappears inside the car.
The red taillights blur, slowly growing smaller and smaller.
I pull out my keys and numbly make for my truck.
I fall into the front seat and stare blindly at the steering wheel.
Something icy and astringent fills my gut, slowly burns its way up my throat.
My lungs tighten, and I can barely form the shallow, erratic breaths they’re allowing.
They stutter and jerk through me. Pressure builds, twisting and spidering around my chest. The events of the night fire through my mind. Each one cinching the belt tighter.
I’m not a good person.
Don’t give up on yourself yet.
A soft sweep of lips, barely there.
The solid warmth of a body pressing into mine.
The chaos it created inside me.
Then the chaos that followed.
The crunch of bone against bone.
The eerie silence.
It echoes in my mind on repeat. I can’t get it to stop. I drop my head into my hands and squeeze. But I can’t drown it out.
Not even the sobs tearing through me can drown out the sound.