“It hurts more to brawl when you aren’t covered in hockey padding,” I say cheerfully.
“Fuck you, Bouchard,” Tate growls. He elbows me into releasing him, but before he can follow up with another attack, River is on him.
River’s punch is beautiful, right into Tate’s nose. I hear the crunch of cartilage breaking. Tate cries out, and I add another kick to his side.
“Help!” Tate cries out. “Brock, Holden!”
I see motion out of the corner of my eye, but it turns out that Holden is only interested in putting more distance between him and us.
Brock is hesitating, too, looking down at his shattered hand instead of at us.
“Sorry, man,” Holden mutters.
The utter betrayal in Tate’s expression is almost more delicious than the pain he’s going to feel in about, oh, five seconds.
I throw another punch, and River follows up by hitting the exact same spot.
The music accompanies our beat-down, and I hum along to it as Tate goes down and tries to protect himself from our blows.
There’s nothing fair about this fight.
But I don’t give a fuck.
I won’t allow anyone to touch Pandora ever again.
We keep beating him until he’s sobbing and begging. “Blaze, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he cries.
I hold my hand up to stop River from delivering the next kick. River growls, but he lowers his foot. I squat down next to Tate.
“You’re going to leave Pandora alone,” I say very carefully. “Because what I did to you? It’s still letting you off easy. If you keep going, you’re not getting out of it with just a few punches and kicks. You’re looking at table saws. Your fingers and toes getting cut off, one by one. Then your hands and feet. Until it’s your head getting severed from your neck.”
Tate lets out a hard gasp. “All because of… because of her?”
“Yeah,” I agree. “All because of her. You can transfer schools if you want. I won’t stop you. Just remember that you’ve already pledged. If you even think about going to the authorities or begging Mommy and Daddy to intervene… I’ve got all your secrets.”
I take my phone out and snap a picture of Tate’s battered face. He whimpers but otherwise holds still for the glamour shot.
I stand up and turn to Brock and Holden. “The same applies to both of you shits.” I motion to Tate. “Help him get patched up. And I suggest you all do your very best to avoid Pandora Pavone.”
“Y-yeah,” Holden says, looking down at Tate.
I’m almost surprised he hasn’t pissed himself again from fear.
River stands at my side, his eyes fixed on Brock. “Blaze isn’t the only one who can make you hurt. Don’t forget that.”
I go over to Brock and clap him on the shoulder. He flinches and looks down at his feet.
“Glad we understand each other. Don’t worry, I won’t sabotage your summer internships.” I let out a small laugh. “You’re still intending to intern with Telemere-Prinz, right?”
Brock nods. “Y-yeah. Okay.”
And that’s it. I whistle to myself and head away from their little secret smoke haven. River jogs after me, but he stays quiet until we’re far enough away that the music isn’t audible anymore.
“Piss balloons?” River finally asks. “The fuck?”
“Revenge for the party, I guess.” I shake my head. “He should have fucking let it go. I had to talk Pandora down from murdering them.”
“Are you sure you actually did?” River asks.
