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The music in the room seems to fade away, and all I can hear is my heart pumping blood through my body. Hunter tries to calm the situation, but it’s already been escalated. The last thing I want to do is ruin Hayden and Savannah’s reception, so I step back.
Weston lets out a maniacal laugh and raises his voice, garnering the attention of some of the guests. He’s intoxicated and insane. “Where’s my whore at? I’m ready to get the fuck out of this lame ass party.”
Hunter stiffens, and I can tell he’s ready to kick him out. When Weston looks at me again, I see how bloodshot his eyes are. The fact that he’s already shit-faced makes me fear what Sophie has already dealt with today. Sophie’s reclusion and not acting like herself makes so much sense. She’s afraid of him, of what he’ll do, and the bruises on her face and swollen eye are proof of that. My nostrils flare, and I clench my teeth, anger mixing with my adrenaline. Balling my hands into fists, I try to calm down, but I want to kick this motherfucker’s face inside out.
“Did you hit her?” I ask flat out. I’m not gonna play games with him.
“What the fuck is it to you?” He steps around Liam and gives me an evil grin. Then he steps closer, lowering his voice. “And I’ll do it again if she gets in my way.” Then he slams his palms against my chest, causing me to stumble back slightly before he walks out of the room, laughing. Though I shouldn’t allow my emotions to take over, I stalk after him. Hunter and Liam follow me into the hallway.
“Hey!” I shout from behind Weston as he exits the main doors that lead outside. Once I’m outside, I continue, “Don’t you ever lay another fucking hand on her,” I warn him with Hunter and Liam standing behind me.
“Or what?” He spins around and faces us. “What are you assholes really gonna do about it? Push me around again, you pussy? Pfft. You should mind your own damn business or else…” Weston sizes me up and straightens his shoulders as if he’s ready for a brawl. Unfortunately for him, I know how to fight, having had a boxing trainer for years. I may be slender, but my hands and body are weapons.
“You like punching so much, why don’t you actually punch someone your own size?”
“That all you got?” He stumbles as he takes a step closer.
“Don’t make me have to tell you again. This is your official warning: you touch her again, and you’ll be dealing with me.”
“With all of us,” Liam adds, stepping to my side with his arms crossed over his broad chest. He wasn’t a bar bouncer all through college for nothing.
Weston scoffs, rolling his eyes as if our threats mean nothing to him. He moves closer again, and the smell of alcohol oozes from him. “Keep it up, and she’ll be dead before you even have the chance to save her,” he says with zero emotion in his voice. His words immediately cause me to see red, and I lose control of my actions. My anger guides me forward, closing the gap between us, daring him to throw the first punch.
Do it, motherfucker. Hit me. I puff out my chest, hoping his drunken ass does it.
Weston narrows his eyes, then raises his arms. He swings at me, grazing my cheek enough to feel, but it barely makes a dent as I step back slightly.
“Bad idea, fuckface.” I lift my hands before he can even register it. My fist connects with his jaw, causing an ear-piercing crack. It should’ve knocked him out flat on his ass, but somehow, he only stumbles. When he regains his footing, it’s as if he snaps like a crazed psychopath. His pupils are full of rage, and he transforms from human to monster in seconds. I allow him to swing at me again, but he misses when I move. He tries again, but then I throw another punch. This time, my fist smashes into his nose, and Weston releases a strangled cry as he curls down and covers his face. As soon as I do, Hunter and Liam pull me away, but I don’t budge. I need to make sure he stays down this time. Just when I think the asshole is done, and I step back to walk away, Weston fidgets and reaches behind his back.
“Hey!” he shouts, grabbing our attention, and that’s when I see a Glock pointed directly at me.
Where the fuck did that come from? I freeze, my heart pounding so hard I’m sure he can hear it.
“Now what, pussy boy?” He turns his head to the side and spits out blood. “Looks like you brought your fists to a fuckin’ gun fight.” Blood drips from his nose and lips that are split open and swollen, and his eye is nearly sealed shut. I slowly hold up my hands, hoping he’s not actually crazy enough to shoot me but knowing he just might be. You don’t pull a gun on someone unless you plan to use it, and I’m not stupid enough to call his bluff.
