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A few of his buddies came up and stood behind him, maybe seeing the tension between us, the look on my face that said I was about to beat his ass. I could take them all though. I was big for my age, tall and muscular from working out. It might be three of them now, but hell, I’d take all of them down.
I was feeling so possessive of Catherine, so pissed that he’d knocked into her, that he was checking her out, that I found it hard to control myself. I found it hard to walk away even though I knew it was the smart thing to do.
But Catherine tugged at my hand, her small fingers curled around my wrist, this lifeline that instantly had me stopping and looking over at her.
“He’s not worth it,” she said softly.
I felt everything kind of fade away, like nothing else mattered except getting her out of here. And I did just that, turned my back on the asshole and his friends and took a step away from them, leading her.
“Pussy,” he said and I felt my body tense. But I could handle some low-blow name calling.
“Although you can leave her,” he added. “Her and I can have a real good time. Bet her pussy is as tight as that stick up her ass.”
I felt that self-control snap right in half. I turned and Catherine tried to pull me back. I could hear her telling me, asking me to just leave it be. But I couldn’t. He’d insulted her, was vulgar about her. He needed my fist in his face to learn a lesson.
I saw red, my whole body tight, my muscles contracting. He and his buddy started laughing, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. I was on him a second later, tackling him to the ground and knocking his friends away. He was smaller than me but beefy, had a wrestler’s body. I slammed my fist into the side of his face. His head cocked to the side, blood pouring out like a tap had turned on.
His friends were on me, trying to pull me off, throwing sucker punches in my sides. But I felt nothing but my rage for this little asshole. I slammed my fist into his face again, heard bone crunch, saw blood splattering on his shirt.
He used his strength to roll me over so he was now the one on top, his fist connecting with my jaw. But I felt no pain. All I felt was this intense need to avenge Catherine’s honor. Like I was some fucking old-school hero needing to right a wrong. Where she was concerned nothing else mattered but protecting her, even if that protection was from words.
We grappled on the ground, punches getting thrown, people shouting out to see more violence. I didn’t know how long we fought, maybe a few moments, maybe longer than that, but before I knew what was happening the sound of sirens rang through the air.
Everything came crashing back to me, noises around us, people scattering in different directions. But still I fought with this asshole. His buddies tried to pull me off, but he and I were too into this to back out.
“You asshole,” he grunted when I slammed my fist into his gut. “You’re going down for this.” That was the last thing he said before the police were pulling us apart. I finally took in a breath and let reality sink in. I stared at the asshole, blood covering his face and his shirt, knowing I probably looked the same way. But it had been worth it.
I saw the police speaking with him, almost reassuring him. In this shitty little town money bought friends, and it was clear I was going to be the one who got shafted in all of this. I looked over at Catherine to see her hands covering her mouth, her eyes wide. Tears streamed down her cheeks and I felt my chest clinch in pain.
I’d put that look on her face.
Me.
And no matter what happened, no matter what repercussions came out of all this, the only thing I regretted was that I hadn’t listened to her and walked away.
Chapter Five
Catherine
I knew how this would end as soon as Sutton threw the first punch.
Michael Crawford was one of the elite in town, an asshole with a lot of money, and a dick for a father who didn’t hesitate to use his connections to get what he wanted.
That’s why I tried to stop it, not just because I knew Sutton would do some serious damage, but because I knew Michael wouldn’t hesitate in burying Sutton. And as I watched them put the guy I loved in the back of the cruiser, this sinking, tight knot in my stomach intensified.
Michael was off to the side with his father, a paramedic looking them over. Michael’s father spoke with one of the police officers, the two men grinning as if they were talking about a day at the country club.
