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“See you later, Melody.” I roll my eyes.
“Hey, Az… whatever your name is. I was just messing around.”
“It’s Azriel." Azriel releases my hand and places his arm behind me along the edge of the booth. “No problem, Zack. Have fun eating with your boys. Celebrate the win.”
Zack’s jaw hardens, and then he walks away.
Adam grins at Azriel. “Thanks, man.”
“No problem. That guy is a dick. I’m surprised you have to play with that asshole.”
“Trust me. It’s not easy, but Melody doesn’t want me to break his face. I tried to convince her, but she doesn’t want me to mess up my chances playing ball and lose my scholarship over it.”
“That sucks, but I get it. College isn’t cheap.”
“Dude, neither is life. Nice truck.”
“Thanks,” Azriel says, and he picks up the menu.
I don’t think he wants to talk about how he can afford it.
After we eat, Azriel surprises my brother and me by paying the bill. Then we say goodbye to my brother, promising to catch up next week.
Azriel walks me to his truck. Before he opens the door, he says, “Your brother is cool.”
“Yeah, I’m lucky to have him,” I admit before getting inside.
He shuts the door, and I wait for him to get in.
My heart skips as the driver's side door remains closed, an uneasy feeling creeping over me. Turning toward the rear window, the muffled sounds of confrontation reach my ears before my eyes confirm my worst fears. Zack and four of his teammates have cornered Azriel.
As I force the door open, my adrenaline surges, and I murmur, "Motherfucker."
Rounding the back of the truck, the scene before me sharpens into focus—Azriel, standing outnumbered.
"Stop it. All of you. Azriel, get in the truck," I command, my voice ringing with authority I barely recognize.
"Aw. You need a girl to save you, bitch," one of them sneers.
"Melody, get in the truck," Azriel counters in a firm command. "Now."
"It's all good, Melody. We're just having a friendly chat," Zack claims, his smile stretching wide and a hollow promise hanging in the air. "Trust me, baby."
“You sick bastard,” I scorn.
Zack blinks like I slapped him.
The rumble of Azriel's truck starting cuts through the tension. The remote start's growl is a stark reminder of the odds stacked against us. It's evident from the predatory gleam in their eyes—they're not here for words. Azriel is their target because of me, and I can't let that happen.
I pull my phone out and dial. “Who is she calling?” one of them says.
"Call the cops, and I'll spin this on you, Melody," Zack threatens, confident in his ability to manipulate the narrative. "They'll take my side."
Asshole.
He’s right, but I’m not calling the cops. I’m calling someone I never thought I would call.
He answers on the second ring. “Where are you?” he demands.
