Page 15

“No. But you will move. I’m leaving."

"Not yet you aren’t.”

My pulse quickens further. The corridor feels smaller. There's no one else here. Just me and three drunk men who are angry about a hockey game they just lost.

"Your team cheats," the first one says. "That's the only reason Brooklyn won."

"Kilovac's a Russian coward," the second adds. "And Faulker's worse."

And here we have it, fucking Americans thinking they know anything about the people behind the pushed propaganda they ingest every day. I glance toward the exit. Still too far.

"What, nothing to say? You were real confident a second ago eurowhore.”

Having taken various classes in self defense since university, I should not feel so intimidated, yet here in the States, one never knows what drunken fool was allowed a permit to carry a firearm a ‘right’ he himself never earned or required to be trained for more than an hour amongst his idiot buddies who thought it would be cool to pack. “Let me pass."

"Or what?"

He steps closer. I smell beer and sweat. Disgusting,

"Back off." I warn.

"Make me."

I try to move around him. He grabs my arm. I shove him. Hard. He stumbles back, surprised at my audacity, then pushes me. I catch myself against the wall.

"You want to fight?" he says pushing up his sleeves. "Let's go."

The other two move closer. Flanking. The crowd still lingering either doesn’t hear or doesn’t care.

I straighten, heart pounding so hard, my fear is lessening. Three against one. Drunk and angry. No security in sight. Let’s go indeed.

“Has anyone ever told you toxic masculinaty is scientifically proven to run through the blood of insignificant men who have tiny little pricks?” I say to buy a moment to ready myself.

Then I hear footsteps.

"Anna?"

Hildy's voice. Clear and worried.

The men glance toward her. She's coming down the corridor with Claudia, Noelle, Nalani, Sofie, and oh God, Lucy and Savannah.

I step forward, drawing their attention back. "This doesn't concern them."

"That your friend? She’s wearing Faulker too?"

Hildy stops a few feet away, reading the situation immediately. "Anna, let's go."

"Yeah, Anna," one of the men mocks. "Listen to your little furry tedddy bear friend."

Fucking moron, I think, as I resign to the fact, this situation will not move from this space. If I walk toward Hildy, they'll follow. If they follow, Lucy and Savannah aren't far behind.

Hildy's pregnant. Nalani's pregnant. Claudia too. Hell, who knows, maybe Noelle and Sofie are as well. I'm not letting this escalate toward them.

"Just let me pass," I say evenly.

"Why should we?"

"Because you've made your point." That point, you’re idiots.