“No,” Zev says as he cracks his knuckles. “But if you don’t leave these ladies alone, you’re going to get even worse than she gave.”
I smile. Of course they’d save not just me, but Charlotte, too.
CHAPTER 29
FOWLER
Evan bristles at Zev’s words. “Maybe you should mind your own pack’s issues.” The way he says “issues” makes my teeth itch.
I crack my neck and lean in, not bothering with threats. “Your omega’s made her choice. Take the damn hint. I’d really rather stop meeting you fucks like this.”
There’s a beat, and I think maybe they’ll just go. Then Tanner makes a split-second decision that, in his defense, is probably the best one his dumb brain can produce: he swings at Zev.
The hallway erupts. Zev takes the punch and grins, then lands one back in Tanner’s solar plexus that folds the guy like a suitcase. Connor lunges at Chris, and I get Evan, who tries to shove me, but I drop my weight and take him with me, rolling hard into the wall. My leg screams. Fighting is thelastthing I should be doing while trying to heal this shit. But no one breaks into Grace’s apartment and threatens her and a friend.
Especially not these bastards.
Nothing we do is elegant, but it’s effective. We’re not out to kill them—just to make a point. It’s just like on the ice before I got us all kicked out of the NHL for good. My fist collides with Evan’s cheekbone, and it’s like every frustration I’ve ever hadgets funneled into that one glorious moment of impact. He yelps and tries to scratch me or something, but I’ve got longer reach and more rage.
Above the chaos, I hear Charlotte and Grace screaming for us to stop, but this is a storm you can’t call off. Zev’s wrestling Tanner to the ground, pinning him with a knee and reciting, “You done? You done?” like a mantra. Connor and Chris are locked in a shoving match that careens into a side table, splintering it.
“Stop!” Grace screams.
I hear the neighbor’s door slam open. A few other shouts sound
Great, witnesses.The last thing a high school coach and Reverie lead need. At least Captain Vega expects this bullshit out of me.
Zev finally lets Tanner up, but Tanner just spits blood on the floor and goes for a tackle, driving Zev back against the wall. I take a boot to my good shin and cuss loud enough to echo.
Connor gets Chris in a chokehold that’s all show, and even Chris knows it. I hear him wheeze, “Let go, let go, let go,” but Connor only loosens up when Zev calls, “Off, Connor. Cops are coming.”
Sirens blare nearby. The floor shakes as the elevator opens and a pair of officers barrel out, batons ready, and for a second nobody moves. Even the alphas know better than to fight cops.
“Hands where we can see them!” the first cop shouts.
And all six of us raise our hands, bloodied and battered, but very much not sorry.
Charlotte’s sobbing now, and Grace is holding her, but she glares daggers at all of us. Even in the mess, her fury is surgical.
“What the actual hell is wrong with you?” she asks, but the question is rhetorical.
I want to explain that it’s about justice, that nobody gets to corner an omega who doesn’t want them. But the words get stuck behind my split lip and the copper taste in my mouth.
Maybe we’ve just proved nothing’s changed after all.That we’re still brash idiots who act before thinking.
Even if it was on her and her friend’s behalf this time.
I sure as hell don’t feel any different at this moment from the last time I was pulled off the ice after a fight by a referee.
The cops corral us, cuff our hands behind our backs, and start the slow, humiliating process of reading us our rights. It’s a weird parade, six grown men bleeding and panting, escorted down three flights and into the back of cruisers while the neighbors gawk from behind security chains. All the while Grace tries to explain the situation to the cops to keep Zev, Connor, and I from going to jail.
It’s not going to stop that. We’ve been on this end of fights enough to know that the only reason we didn’t get arrested prior to this was because it happened in an arena full of people.
They shove Zev, Connor, and me into one car, and I can’t help it—I start to laugh. It bubbles out, manic and a little unhinged, but it’s contagious, because Zev joins in and then Connor, until the entire back seat’s vibrating with suppressed howls.
“You idiots,” Zev says between snorts.
“You’d do it again,” Connor says.
