Shay’s brows lift but before he can comment, the hockey players start shouting at each other again, and one guy jerks to his feet and gestures at Addison. “He’s right. Look at her. She’s paler than an egg-white omelet!”He punches Dyers’s forearm. “Let her go.”
Addison flinches, and I can feel Shay bristling beside me so I tug on his hand. “This has nothing to do with you and she has a hockey team to defend her. You wading in will only make things worse.”
“Then I’ll make it something to do with me.”
Pecan, a goalie on the team, thunders, “Addison, do you want to leave?”
Her throat bobs but she nods.
“You got eyes, Dyers,” Zach warns. “Let her go.”
If anything, he does the opposite.
When Addison cries out in pain at the tightness of Dyers’s grip on her arm, I glower at the jerk, but Denver heckles, “Is it true what they say, Dyers? That you’re counterfeit in all ways?”
Cackling, Wynter wiggles her pinkie finger at me.
Addison ducks free from Dyers’s hold. She scurries away, ignoring his: “Addison! Come?—”
When she whips around to look at him, fear etched into her expression, she only picks up the pace to exit the diner.
Dyers turns to Denver with a snarled, “You think you can say shit like that without repercussions, you fat fucking cunt?”
And that’s it.
Zach has had enough of Dyers’s bullshit, especially when he attempts to punch Denver! Zach prevents the hit in the nick of time and then smacks the asshole in the face. Blood sprays everywhere and a tooth flies loose, whipping through the air while Zach drags Dyers onto the table.
Food sails forward like something out of a movie. The breakfast tidal wave sends dishes crashing and cutlery singing as it clatters to the floor.
The team, aside from Alec, that douche canoe, cheers Zach on until shit goes a little too far. Thankfully, Lex is there to rein them in.
“Are you trying to get me fired for not refereeing you animals?!” she wails, wading into the chaos with a dose of normalcy. “Look at this mess!”
“Do I need to come out there?” Dopie, the owner of the diner, bellows from the kitchen.
“No, Dopie,” Zach calls out then earns himself an eye-roll from the massive guy out back. “I won’t charge for being the security guard your place needs.”
Zach shoves Dyers off the table, and after he tumbles to the floor, all arms and legs akimbo, he’s quick to jump onto his feet. I’m not sure what Lex says, but it has Dyers making to hit her too as he bites off, “Bitch!”
Dopie rushes out of the kitchen, but not fast enough to beat Pecan, who snags a hold of the douche’s wrist and yanks it down.“I don’t think so.”
“He called me a ‘fat cunt,’ Dopie—” Denver tells the diner owner the truth. “—and he went to hit me so Zachhadto defend me.”
The older man folds his arms across his chest. “I hate men who hit women.”
“Same.” Zach’s shoulders bunch in agitation. Denver presses her hand to his back, but that doesn’t settle him any.
“Men are so unoriginal.” Lex stares at Dyers like he’s a dog turd someone walked into the diner. “Aren’t they, Denny?”
“Truer words.”
Dyers, skidding on spilled egg yolks and syrup, turns to Alec when Dopie clearly isn’t siding with him. “Are you letting this happen?”
Alec swipes at some food that landed on his face. “What do you want me to do, Derek? I told you to keep your nose clean, so you come and cause trouble? We’ll talk about this later.”
“I don’t believe this.” Dyers staggers upright, only to teeter before crashing back down again.
The bulk of the diners’ patrons laughs this time—Shay, Wynter, and me included.
