One second Walker is standing three feet away, and the next he has the guy by the throat, launching him backward and slamming him into a tree.
“What the fuck?!” Walker says, and his voice isice. I’ve never heard him use that tone in my life. “You don’t hit him! You don’t fucking hit him!”
The guy’s hands come up, grabbing at Walker’s wrist, but Walker’s got forty pounds of muscle on him and the leverage of pure fury. He shoves the stranger harder into the wood, making the entire trunk shake.
“He’s a doll,” Walker snarls, his face inches from the guy’s nose. “He’s here to be played with, not abused. You don’t get to put your hands on him like that.”
The guy tries to choke out an excuse, but Walker’s grip is choking the life out of him, his face turning a dark red.
Suddenly, loud footsteps. And then I witness something I never thought I would ever see in my life: Miles throwing a punch.
He’s not a fighter, but his knuckles connect with the guy’s jaw with a sickening crack, sending him crumbling to the dirt.
The guy doesn’t even get a second to groan on the ground because Reid steps up and kicks him square in the ribs. He doubles over, gasping for air, but Reid just drives his boot into the exact same spot.
Miles is on him again, hauling him up by the collar just to smash his fist into the guy’s face one more time. There’s zero technique in it.
Reid circles the mess, waiting for an open window before launching another kick. His boot connects with the guy’s thigh. The dude wheezes, trying to curl into a pathetic ball.
“Fuck him up!” Finn’s voice cuts through it. “Yeah! Destroy his ass! That’s what you get, bitch!”
Grant and Walker just stand a few feet back, arms crossed, calmly watching the beatdown.
“Bro,” Walker says, and by the tone of his voice, he’s calm again. “We should probably pull them off.”
Grant tilts his head. “In a minute.”
Walker looks at him. Grant looks back.
“Yeah,” Walker agrees, nodding slowly. “Okay. In a minute.”
The guy screams into the dirt, crying that he won’t do it again.
“One more,” Grant says. “Then we end it.”
“One more,” Walker says.
I can’t move.
It has nothing to do with being in doll mode anymore—I’m not. Right now my brain is firing, my heart is hammering against my ribs, and my hands are shaking against my thighs. But my body is totally paralyzed.
I’m notscared.
Call that absoluteshock.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Grant says, stepping in. He catches Miles’ arm mid-swing. Miles tries to yank himself free, his chest heaving. “Enough!”
Miles finally stops, and I see the way his knuckles are bloody. Reid goes for one final kick, but Grant catches him by the shoulder, yanking him back. Reid stumbles, catching himself, and just glares down at the guy on the ground.
Walker crouches beside the guy, lifting his eyelids. The dude is barely conscious, his eyes rolling back with blood pooling in his mouth.
“He’s fine,” Walker says. “But we can’t just leave him lying here.”
“If someone calls an ambulance, the cops show up,” Grant points out. “Cops show up, we’re all completely fucked.”
“So we take him ourselves,” Walker says, grabbing the guy’s arms. “Drop him at the ER entrance and tell them we found him in a ditch.”
Grant’s jaw works. “Fine.” He digs into his pocket, pulls out his keychain, and tosses it straight at Reid. “Take the trunk and get Kit back to the house. We’ll dump this piece of shit in an Uber or something.”
