Bishop tips his head to me. I growl, advancing on Sean. He yelps like a little bitch, scuttling through the weeds.
“Nowhere to run from me, fucker.”
“I, uh,” Sean blathers, licking his lips, “thought we were going on the prowl for pussy.”
Bishop chuckles sadistically, smacking his bat against the corrugated metal siding of the building. “Bro, do you see any babes around?”
Sean’s throat bobs. “Uh…”
“Think hard, Sean.” The moonlight shifts with the passing clouds, painting his fear in flickers across his face. I master the burning anger, ambling in front of him. “What did you do this week? Who did you talk to?”
“Is this because I was hitting on Davis? Guys, she’s trashy. That’s fair game.”
The whoop Bishop releases pierces the night air as he laughs in disbelief. Bishop jabs the tip of the bat beside Sean’s head. He flinches, glaring at us.
“Oh boy, you’re stupid,” Bishop says. “That’s hilarious.”
Gritting my teeth, I grab Sean by the collar, half-lifting him from his seated position. Sean jerks his head back.
“You’ll kill that rumor, or I’ll kill you for what you said to her,” I growl.
“What is up with you this year? You’ve changed, man.” The end of Sean’s words ratchet up in pitch when I slam him against the wall.
“Really?” There’s a dangerous amusement threading my voice. “I’ve never felt more like myself.”
I drive my fist in Sean’s gut, taking immense satisfaction in the way he groans and curls forward. Bishop snatches him before he can fall, standing him back up for my next hit. I pound Sean with my fists.
“You don’t come near her! She isn’t up for grabs.” I hold Sean by the throat, squeezing until I control his air supply. His eye is swelled shut and blood oozes from the cut on his lip. “Blair is off fucking limits. Clear?”
Sean nods weakly. “S-sorry.”
With a disgusted snarl, I drop him. Sean crumples to the gravel like a sack of potatoes. I flex my hand, examining the redness. Two of my knuckles split, stinging with each movement.
“Enjoy your walk home.” I spit on the ground next to Sean’s foot.
“Oh, and if you think about talking about this…” Bishop flashes me a look, then crouches beside Sean, murmuring in his ear.
I can’t hear what he says, but the curve of Bishop’s mouth is savage. Sean goes pale in the moonlight. It must be one of his juicier pieces of blackmail.
“Cool?” Bishop smirks and pats Sean’s head when he nods. “Cool. Good choice.”
Bishop pops to his feet and twirls the bat up to rest on his shoulder.
“Let’s go.”
I promised Blair I wouldn’t be long. Now that I’ve rained hell on Sean, the anger has bled away. The tether in my chest tugs, calling me home to her.
Thirty-Seven
Devlin
I wait outside her bedroom, dressed and ready to head over to my aunt and uncle’s for Thanksgiving dinner.
My knuckles have healed, but when I last saw Sean before the long weekend break began, his black eye remained purple and puffy. Whenever he sees me, he scurries away like the little rodent he is.
Blair opens the door, a knockout in the new dress I bought her. She tried to refuse it when I left it in her room, claiming it was too much. It looks damn good on her, but it isn’t that the dress is anything special.
It’s Blair—she’s what makes the dress shine, not the other way around.