33. Chapter Thirty-Three #3
“Not so mouthy now, are you? Bergam wants you out of commission.” The larger man ran a finger across Valentin’s cheek, pushing it into the gash there.
Valentin nearly vomited from the pain while his attacker chuckled evilly.
“We’ve made a good start on this pretty face, but there’s so much more we can do. ”
Yanking Valentin’s wrist, he wrested the tire iron away and tossed it to the ground. He followed that up with a violent slap to Valentin’s uninjured cheek. Valentin’s mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood.
Where the fuck was Xan? Security patrolled every fifteen minutes. It had to be soon.
The man with the pistol raised his arm again. Valentin closed his eyes and braced himself for the blow.
“Hey fuckers! Two on one isn’t fair!”
A beta appeared in the exit doorway, and before the assailants could react, he smashed bottles over their heads. The attacker with the gun aimed, but Valentin pushed into him before he pulled the trigger, the bullet ricocheting loudly against the brick exterior.
The beta picked up the tire iron and deftly took another swing at Bergam’s goons. He landed a blow to the larger man’s stomach, causing him to double over.
Valentin swung at the second guy with his uninjured arm, mindful of the gun. His punch didn’t land, but he distracted the man long enough for the beta to bring the tire iron down on his fingers. The attacker dropped the weapon and cried out, clutching his hand to his chest.
The exit door flew open and Xan raced out, brandishing a pistol.
“I heard a shot,” he said, squinting in the dim yellow light of the streetlamp. Valentin imagined the scene from Xan’s perspective—a beta wielding a tire iron with three alphas bowed over in pain. Valentin moved closer to the beta, signaling that he was an ally.
In a flash, one of the thugs picked up the gun, grabbed his partner, and raced to the far side of the alley, covered by the darkness. Seconds later, they peeled out on a motorcycle.
“Bergam’s men?” Xan rushed over to Valentin.
“Yeah.”
Valentin crouched against his car and rested his good arm on his knee. His other arm hung limply at his side, incapacitated by the savage shoulder punch he’d taken. Panting, he ran a hand gingerly across his face. It came away covered in blood.
Xan stuffed his gun into his waistband. He motioned to the other guards who had followed him outside. They began walking in opposite directions, checking behind the dumpsters and parked cars, making their way to the club’s main entrance. “Do you need a hospital?”
“No hospital.” Valentin spat blood onto the asphalt. “Probably would have gone better if you’d come a teensy bit sooner.”
“Fuck! I’m so sorry.”
“I’m just giving you shit. I shouldn’t have come out alone or been so careless after what Bergam tried to pull tonight.” He pointed toward the beta, now leaning against the wall, also catching his breath. “Luckily, this guy came to my rescue.”
“Appreciate you jumping in,” Xan said to him.
The beta laughed as he tossed the tire iron back into the trunk of the car. “I’d say no problem, but that would be a lie.”
Valentin spoke but kept his gaze downcast, still worried he might vomit. “Thanks so much, man. And obviously your door fees at The Cracked Heart are covered for the rest of your life.” He spat again. “Also, free drinks.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Valentin finally glanced up. His eyes widened.
The beta who had saved him was the man he’d noticed earlier on the dance floor.
“Those guys didn’t notice me come out the door,” the man said. “When they jumped you, I stayed back until I thought I could help. Then I saw the empty bottles on the ground… I honestly didn’t think I had anything like that in me. It’s crazy what you’ll do when your heart is pounding.”
“Tell me about it. I’m just lucky you decided to get some air when you did.”
“Seriously? … You don’t—?” The beta scoffed. “I wasn’t just out for a stroll.” He glared at Valentin. “I followed you out here because I had to make sure. I didn’t recognize you at first, but after I did…”
The vaguely familiar feeling Valentin had experienced earlier came into full focus. Stunned, he brought his good hand to his mouth.
The beta’s expression was triumphant and hostile all at once. “Kind of ironic I helped you tonight when I’ve spent the last eight years thinking about how much you deserve to be punched.”
“Asher!?”
Valentin reeled. He’d only met Zeller’s brother a handful of times.
Now the man stood next to him.
Xan scrutinized Valentin's face. “We need to get you to the hospital. That cheek needs stitches. I know you don’t want to, but too bad.”
Valentin waved him off. “Fine. I will. Gimme a minute.” He turned to Asher. “Why were you looking for me? Was it for your parents? Because you can tell them to fuck all the way off. I don’t care what they do. I’ll fight them this time.”
Asher’s gaze sharpened. “I haven’t spoken to my fathers in over a year. And I wasn’t looking for you. Me being here tonight is just, like, a super fucked-up coincidence.”
“Where is Zeller?” Valentin demanded.
Asher lifted his chin. “Actually, I was hoping you could tell me.”