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Grabbing me by the chin, his fingers pinch into my jaw bone as his voice drops to a hiss. “Don’t look at them, look at me. We’re not finished.”
“I said get away from her!” someone screams, and then suddenly Tristan is no longer in front of me.
It happened so damn fast it takes me two full blinks to realize Tristan is now sprawled out on the cement in front of me.
It takes me another two full blinks to see the angry boy who stomped by me earlier pushing himself off the ground.
Getting to his feet first, the boy clenches his hands into fists and looms over Tristan.
Chest heaving, the boy says, “Only pussies pick on girls!”
“You little fucking shit,” Tristan snarls as he starts to get to his feet.
Shock keeps me rooted to the spot, unable to move, a silent witness to the craziness that’s playing out in front of me. My mind just can’t seem to wrap around it until Tristan gets to his feet and I see the size difference between him and the boy.
There’s at least a foot and a half, if not more, of height difference between them.
I have no clue how old the boy is, my experience with kids is very limited, but I’d bet he can’t be older than twelve.
And I’m pretty sure the only reason he got the jump on Tristan was out of sheer surprise. Tristan wasn’t expecting it. Hell, I wasn’t expecting it.
But seeing the two of them square up on each other utterly terrifies me.
The boy doesn’t stand a chance.
As Tristan lunges for the boy, I react on pure, protective instinct. Jumping forward, I push my way between them.
“Tristan, no!” I scream, throwing my arms out to protect the boy.
Tristan either doesn’t want to stop himself or can’t stop himself because he barrels right into me.
Taking me down to the ground, the most horrible pain I’ve ever experienced in my life crashes into me as all the air whooshes out of my lungs.
“What the fuck is going on here?!” a new voice roars as I stare up at the sky, gasping for air.
Even as I struggle to cope with the pain, the voice is so strong, so thunderous, it seems to vibrate through my body.
“Are you okay?” someone asks from close by.
I think it’s the boy.
Wrapping my arm around my aching chest, I try to sit up and remember how to breathe at the same time.
“Here, let me help you…”
“Fuck,” I hear Tristan mutter as I finally get myself into a sitting position with the help of a hand on my back. “Fuck this shit.”
“Did you fucking hurt her?!” the roaring voice from earlier thunders out at the same time the boy tells me to relax, my air will come back.
I’m so focused on trying to fucking breathe, I can’t focus on what’s going on around me.
I have no clue who’s roaring, and I can’t bring myself to try and twist around to look, but part of me hopes it’s Chase.
Chase will protect us.
I don’t know why I believe that fact with every fiber of my being after only knowing him for a few days, but I do.
Footsteps pound against the pavement behind me just as I manage to drag in my first breath. The breath is almost blissful because I know now that I’m not going to suffocate to death, but at the same time it hurts like a bitch.
