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“Damn, he looks fucking pissed,” Finn muttered.
“Yeah, I don’t think it’s gonna end well.” Elijah shook his head beside me.
I realized both of them looked a little worried, and that made me worry. Cole’s face was contorted with rage, although his eyes still looked almost dead, and when Preston swung out and caught him on the side of the face with a hard right hook, I swore to God I saw him smile.
As if the pain made him happy.
As if it charged him up like a fucking Berserker.
“Well, Preston shouldn’t have been talking shit about his family. He was already told to knock it off, but he wouldn’t keep his big fucking mouth shut,” Mason said. He’d rejoined our group after he stepped out of the ring.
“Fuck, man. What if he gets carried away?” Elijah asked in a low voice.
“He’ll be fine.”
I caught the look Elijah and Mason shared before we all turned to watch Cole. Preston had worked his way back to his feet, and now Cole advanced on him, punching him in the face and then the gut in a quick one-two. When Preston stumbled back, Cole moved with him, hitting him again. He seemed detached, cold, and almost inhuman as he fought viciously.
No matter what Preston did, Cole advanced on him like an unstoppable force of nature. The blond boy fought back, even landed a few solid hits, but it was almost like Cole couldn’t even feel them. His head whipped to the side once, and I heard the crack of Preston’s knuckles across his face, but he just turned back toward the other boy and hit him harder.
The crowd was loud at first, cheering and laughing, calling out to the two of them… but as the fight went on, their voices began to die out. I glanced around at the crowd, fear filling me like ice water.
Whatever was going on inside the ring, it wasn’t normal or expected. It wasn’t how these things usually went down.
It was worse.
“Stop,” I heard myself whisper in a low, shaky voice. “Mason, make him stop.”
“It’s fine.”
“He’s going to fucking kill him. Call it off!” I tugged at his arm, unable to tear my gaze away from the unfolding fight. Cole had Preston on the ground again, and Preston was too dazed to block all—or even most—of his hits. But they kept raining down, like fire from heaven.
“Fuck,” Finn muttered.
“Yeah, Mason…”
Concern echoed in Elijah’s voice, but still, Mason waited.
My heart slammed against my ribs. I couldn’t watch this. I couldn’t let it continue. Without thinking, I darted forward to try to stop them myself when Mason caught me around the waist.
“Stay.” His voice was low in my ear, then he called to Elijah and Finn. “Get him off Preston! Do it.”
The guys moved forward and hauled Cole away from the other boy, but he struggled against their grip, fists still swinging. Preston’s face was so bloody and swollen, he didn’t even look like himself. The cocky look he’d worn when he first faced Cole was gone. I could hear a wheeze, and I was pretty sure his nose was broken.
“Knock it off, Cole!” Finn yelled as he grabbed him by his throat and shoved him to the ground. “He’s done for. Will you calm the fuck down?”
Cole grunted, baring his teeth in fury, but Finn leaned down and spoke low in his ear. After a few moments, the tattooed maniac stopped fighting, the tension bleeding from his body.
Mason and Elijah crouched over Preston, their faces tense. The rest of the crowd was already starting to disperse. No one wanted anything to do with the aftermath of this fight.
“Hey, Legs, get your ass over here!” Finn called, standing up and gesturing me over.
I walked toward him on shaky legs. “What do you need?”
“Take care of Cole, will you? Get him bandaged up.”
My pulse jumped, and I looked down at Cole. He was still lying on his back, staring up at the sky. “Me? What are you going to do?”
“Take care of this.” He jerked his thumb at Preston as Elijah and Mason pulled the blond-haired boy to his feet. He barely seemed conscious, and I was sure that without their support, he wouldn’t be standing. “We need to get him to the ER and make sure he keeps his story straight.”
