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He sighed. “Please stop looking at me like that.”
“Are you really starting these fires?” she whispered.
He pulled down the next torch. If he said no, would it make a difference? He could already hear the plea in her tone, the fear behind her whisper.
But then he flicked his lighter, and something beyond Becca caught his eye.
Taylor and Heather had cell phones in their hands, and they were taking pictures or maybe video of the couple writhing on the lounge. The girls were giggling, but he couldn’t make out everything they were saying.
He let the flame die and nodded in their direction. “What do you think is going on over there?”
Becca turned and her whole body stiffened. “Hey!” she called. She started storming across the pool deck. “Hey!”
God, she was a ballsy chick. Gabriel followed her.
Taylor and Heather were making wolf whistles, egging the couple on. Some big kid was on top of a much smaller girl in boots and a miniskirt. He couldn’t see her face behind the guy, but he’d worked her skirt up to her waist and her shirt up to her chest, revealing the edge of a bra. Thank god she had tights on, or she’d be giving quite a show.
The guy’s arm was on her shoulder, pinning her there, his hand over her mouth.
The other hand was trying to force the shirt higher. The girl squealed and struggled.
Becca walked right up and punched him in the kidney. “Get off of her, you ass**le!”
He barely grunted. Becca was tiny.
Gabriel was not. He slammed the guy into the concrete pool deck.
Ryan Stacey.
“Jesus,” said Gabriel. “You really are an ass**le.”
Chris was suddenly there beside him. He must have seen Becca go flying across the pool deck. “Yeah. He is.”
“Ohmigod,” said Taylor, almost breathless with laughter. “I got all of that. Hey, Ryan, that was the best hundred dollars I ever spent. Who’s the prostitute now, bitch?”
Gabriel snapped his head up. The girl was curled against Becca now, and he couldn’t see her face.
Ryan was laughing he didn’t even seem to care that his head had cracked on the pavement. Obviously hammered. “No wonder her brother is a deaf retard. She’s all deformed under there.”
Layne. Gabriel grabbed the front of Ryan Stacey’s shirt and punched him in the face. And again. And “Gabriel. Gabriel.” Someone had his arms. Nick. And Chris.
The torches were blazing now, pouring smoke into the sky, illu-minating the pool deck like a bonfire. Ryan Stacey’s face was a mess. Gabriel wasn’t even sure he was still conscious. They’d drawn a small crowd, but Gabriel had his eyes locked on the trembling figure in Becca’s arms.
Layne, definitely Layne.
God, he’d been sitting right over there.
Gabriel was frozen, torn between going to Layne or breaking every bone in Ryan’s body. Followed by Taylor’s. Fire was whipping higher into the air, fed by his temper, looking for something more to burn.
“Take their phones,” said Becca. “Break them.”
“Please,” scoffed Taylor. “Like it’s not already online.”
But Chris snatched them anyway, snapping the cases and throwing the pieces into the pool. The girls didn’t look concerned. They looked satisfied.
“And, Gabriel,” said Taylor, “your part in this was too perfect. I didn’t think you’d show up.”
Layne made a choked noise and lifted her head. Her cheeks were red and tear streaked.
