“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
He ducks back in the crowd and I stick by the wall of another falling-down building. There’s a little creek nearby, I can hear the water rushing downstream. While I wait, my heart rate slows, and I wonder why it made me so sick. Part of it was the intensity Sebastian showed in the ring. It was scary, and it felt like the anger was barely a peek under the surface. Another part was just the memory of hitting the pavement, the sounds of a body breaking. Yet another part was recognizing the stillness of Sebastian’s face, just before the fight really got started. The same kind of stillness I see in Reyn sometimes, but have never been able to explain.
It’s the look of someone bracing for impact.
Suddenly, the noise of the crowd erupts into a climactic cheer. I don’t have to wonder for long who won. The sight of Heston’s angry face as he and his friends stalk toward me tells me all I need to know.
22
Reyn
I get there just as Sebastian lays the Northridge kid out, so it takes a while before I can even reach the cooler. Everyone is losing their damn minds. If anyone from Northridge is even here, you wouldn’t know it going by the cheers and excited screams.
Not my scene, if I’m being honest.
I manage to catch Emory by the wall, laughing something into Aubrey’s ear. “Hey, V’s all good.”
Annoyingly, Emory just shrugs. “Okay.” He’s trying to act like he doesn’t care, even though it’s obvious that some of the tension in his shoulders eases.
I roll my eyes. “Whatever. Where’s Carl?” I follow where he points, having to squeeze between a group of rowdy guys before meeting up with the rest of the Devils. The water is buried deep enough under the beer that I’m up to my elbows in it when Sebastian jumps over the retaining wall, joining up with all of us.
“Winner gets squatter’s rights,” he says, grabbing one of the beers I’d set aside. He sits on the wall, a swollen bruise already blooming over his eye, and spits off to the side. “Y’all want to build a fire and get baked?”
The others agree, even though Caroline says, “I have curfew in two hours.”
“No problem,” Sebastian says, throwing an arm over her shoulder. She blushes and does a really bad job of hiding her smile. “We’ll have you home to mommy at eleven sharp.”
The crowd is already starting to thin out some. There’s probably something else going on by now, judging by the way the non-Preston people are checking their phones. The entertainment here is done, anyway.
I emerge from the cooler with the promised bottle of water, and look at Sebastian. “We didn’t fuck you up before, did we?”
He flings his sweaty hair off his forehead, scoffing. “Nah. Had that shit on lockdown.”
Despite that fact, he still looks a little battered and unsteady. “Well, we were just—”
My words cut off sharply, because over Sebastian’s shoulder, I can see a group of guys clustered around the exact spot I’d left Vandy. It’s too dark to make out who they are, but it looks like one of them has her boxed in against the wall. I can’t see the details of her face—her expression—but the silhouette of her posture is radiating discomfort.
“Hey!” I’m over the wall, through the ring, and over the opposite wall in an instant. I’m so laser-focused on getting to that motherfucker in front of her that the steps behind me barely register. The closer I get, the more I realize who it is.
I get a big fistful of his shirt and yank Heston back sharply enough that he grunts. His three buddies all step forward, but Heston just laughs it off, watching me shoulder in between them.
“Relax, tough guy. We were just having a little discussion.” From the flushed, uncomfortable look on Vandy’s face, it couldn’t have been about anything good.
I take my jacket off and hand it back to Vandy. See, Georgia? It’s not about abs, there’s less to grab onto. “She’s not yours to talk to,” I say, jaw clenched tight. “Not now, not ever.”
“Oh, this is rich.” He turns to one of his friends. “See, Reynolds here is the reason her leg’s all fucked up like that. Almost killed her in a car accident. Now he’s trying to be the big hero. Used to be, you treated a girl like shit and she’d leave you alone. But Preston girls? No self-respect.”
My blood pumps hard as I step forward. “I know you wouldn’t say that with Emory around, and you’re dumber than I remember to say it in front of me.”
“I’m not scared of Emory,” Heston says, sneering. “And what are you going to do, McAllister? Steal my wallet? You were never anything special. Heard your d
addy lost all his money in the divorce settlement, so now you’re just one of Preston’s scholarship charity cases. They really like collecting the trash these days.”
My fist is already tightly clenched when I lunge forward, spine buzzing with the anticipation of slamming my knuckles into this asshole’s face. And then Vandy grabs my arm, tugging me back. I’m not proud of it, the way I coil angrily against her grip, but if I throw the punch, it could hurt her.
We both know I won’t.
“Don’t,” she says, voice reedy with panic. “Reyn, your probation. It’s not worth it.”