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“Let me go upstairs and then I’ll chill out,” Zayla bites out as she glares at Brooks.

Her cup is long gone and I’m assuming it’s the one that’s lying on the floor. Her face is red, and her hands are curled into fists at her sides.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Brooks tells her while crossing his arms, a smirk playing on his lips. “But the upstairs is off limits unless you’re a member of this frat.”

Zay inches closer to him. While she’s usually a relatively calm person, I once saw her pull a woman’s hair over some argument about parking spaces. Granted, she was having a really bad day. Still, seeing that side of her makes a bit concerned she might try to go toe-to-toe with Brooks.

“Hey,” I interrupted, stepping up beside her. I’m about four inches taller than Zayla, so I’m not as overwhelmed by the guys’ height. But their sizes are unnerving. Not that I’m going to show that. “What’s going on?”

She doesn’t even so much as glance at me, continuing to glower at Brooks. “What’s going on is this asshole doesn’t realize that he can tell me what to do just because he’s bigger than me.”

Brooks scoffs. “That’s not what happened, sweetheart. You’re just being crazy.”

“Don’t fucking call her that,” I snap at him. Then to Zayla, I say, “Why do you even want to go upstairs?”

Her eyes remain fastened on Brooks. “Because I think Ollie is up there with another woman.”

Shit.

“No, he isn’t,” Brooks insists, but I can tell he’s lying. “He just went up to grab some stuff out of my room… more booze, actually. He’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Then why won’t you just let me go up?” Zayla questions, crossing her arms and tapping her shoe against the floor.

Brooks steps toward her. “I already told you that only members of the frat are allowed up there, so why don’t you take your crazy ass back into the living room and wait for Ollie to find you.”

I’m not sure what pushes me over the edge; his words or the fact that he’s standing too close to her. It’s not like he’s doing anything, yet, but that’s how all these types of situations go. No one does anything to hurt someone until they do. And it happens all the goddamn time.

I step in between them and push Brooks back. “Get out of her face,” I warn as he slightly stumbles back.

His nostrils flare as he regains his balance. “What the fuck, you crazy psycho.”

“Is that what you really believe? That all women who question you are just crazy?” I ask while folding my arms, mostly to hide my shakiness. “Or is it that you just don’t know any other words? Because if that’s the case, there's a thing called a dictionary that has a ton of words that could broaden your meathead vocabulary.”

Brooks' face turns bright red. I know I’ve probably pushed him too far, but I can’t stop myself. My mind keeps circling back to that night I went to the party with Zoe and how I wished I’d done everything differently.

Everything would be different if I had…

Brooks starts to step toward me, but a hand suddenly slams against his chest.

“Okay.” Wylder intervenes while holding Brooks back. “I think it might be time for everyone to cool down.”

Brooks scowls at me and I throw his attitude right back at him.

“Get out of my way, Bro,” Brooks says without so much as glancing at Wylder.

“You know I can’t do that.” Wylder keeps his hand firmly against Brooks' chest.

Wylder is about an inch or two taller than Brooks with blond hair and green eyes. While Brooks is all bulky muscle, Wylder is on the leaner side, and he has a few tattoos on his forearms. But even though Brooks is more muscular, I still feel like Wylder could hold him back if he needed to. I don’t want him too, though.

Call me fucking crazy, and maybe I am, but ever since that night, I’ve carried around this need. I’m not even positive what it is. Perhaps a need for revenge. Toward whom, I’m not even sure, although I do have a few people on my list, one of which is dead, and the other is currently married to Zoe. So getting that revenge isn’t an option. But I can get it on Brooks for getting in Zayla’s face.

“No, let him go,” I say with my gaze glued to Brooks.

Brooks smirks at me. “You think you can take me, little girl.” He snorts a laugh. “You really are crazy.”

“Yep, sure am,” I retort as I reach for my pocket. “I’m just crazy enough to take my mace out of my pocket. You want to come at me, go ahead. You won’t make it very far.”

He hesitates and Wylder releases a loud exhale. I think Brooks has given up, when his lips curl into a grin. “Fifty bucks says the bitch is lying.”