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—THUNK!
Max hissed, then tried to get up, but Scott dropped down and straddled his hips before he could. Instinctively, Max shielded himself, ready to deflect Scott’s fists with his forearms. Not that that deterred Scott, because it didn’t. Not at all. Another round of punches descended.
“Just don’t know when to quit,” Scott bit out, seething. “Always gotta be an asshole, no matter what.”
And he was right. Completely right.
Max Kelley, eternal dick.
Something inside Max crumpled. He dropped his arms, no longer caring. Agony tore through his face, through every inch of his chest. Two brutal forms of torment all at once. But right as Scott readied to land another blow, another set of hands shot into the picture. They grabbed Scott’s arm, but Scott shoved back with his elbow, sending their owner sprawling to the floor.
A grunt resounded as the guy hit the ground.
Scott cocked his arm and landed another blow.
More stars. More pain, roaring fiercely through Max’s jaw.
But then those hands were back again, swiftly trapping Scott’s arms in a full nelson. Scott tried to get free, all snarling and cursing, but those hands proved a pretty worthy adversary. Another grunt sounded as Scott’s body lurched backward, his weight finally lifting off Max’s hips.
“Scott.” Tad’s voice. “C’mon, dude. Calm down.”
Max stilled in surprise—What the fuck was he doing there?—but quickly forced his ass to get up. Putting pressure on his split lip, he eyed Tad guardedly, then gave the kid a reluctant little chin lift. An unspoken “thank you” all guys understood, since Max sure as fuck wasn’t going to say it.
His gaze cut back to Scott, who was clearly still fuming, his big frame all but vibrating against Tad’s hold. Bitterly, Max grinned. How fucking appropriate. That the person Scott just friggin’ pummeled his face for was there to be part of the moment.
Max tamped his resentment and eyed his friend. “So full of shit.” He smirked. “Jesus, you’re easy.”
“Fuck you,” Scott grated.
Max thumbed his bleeding lip. “Hmm. I dunno. Think it’s pretty clear you’d rather do that to him.”
He focused back on Tad, his smug façade vanishing. Whether Tad saved him from needing a stretcher or not, Max still didn’t trust the guy with his friend. He leveled Tad with a look, one that growled, take heed, and gave him his one and only warning. “It took me a long fucking time to fix him. You break him again and I swear to God…” His voice dipped. “I’ll fucking put you down.”
It was a sentiment meant to make Tad second guess his decision to come. But all it seemed to do was steel his resolve. Or whatever that was flashing hot in Tad’s eyes as he returned Max’s stare with one of his own. Max couldn’t be sure, but by the look in Tad’s gaze, he was pretty sure the kid was trying to tell him something. Something that looked a lot like, “I’m gonna fight for this man, so if I have to go through you, let’s fucking do this.”
A conviction Max had been looking for in Tad’s eyes from the start. Better late than never, he supposed, but Tad had better start walking the walk. Get his shit together, and keep it together, and stop messing with Scott’s head. Because Scott deserved nothing short of the world. And Tad had better deliver.
Resolving to let bygones be bygones for now, Max stepped close and palmed his irate friend’s head. “Love you, bro. You know this.” He kissed Scott’s cheek. “Was just helping point out the obvious.”
Scott stared at him crossly, no longer fighting Tad’s hold.
Tad watched Max, too, not saying a word.
Whatever. The smoke was still thick in the air.
Max clapped Tad’s shoulder and turned to leave. But with each step he took, his heart sank lower. All he’d managed to do in the last ten minutes was make things even worse than they were. His problem with Sean was still wholly unsolved, and now his best friend undoubtedly hated him. Not that Max blamed him. He’d been a monumental prick. Hell, if he were Scott, he’d still be frickin’ beating him.
Max exhaled, then out of habit, dragged a hand down his face, grimacing in pain from the contact. Scott had kicked his ass good. He’d be feeling it for days.
“Good,” he muttered, heading for the basement. Maybe it’d keep his screwed ass distracted.
TWENTY
Click—
Sean angled his camera and hit the shutter again, capturing his sun-speckled subjects from another direction. A cluster of vine leaves winding up a tree. An oak nestled against the side of Sean’s boulder. Sean’s in the sense that he was currently sitting on it. A massive rock, easily the size of his Beetle. A peaceful, familiar spot in the woods next to his apartment building. A place he walked to often when he found a little free time, or when he didn’t feel like driving in his car.
