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His jaw locks as one hand rests softly on my side. “Go to the student center, Riley.” He barks the order, though his eyes are held tight to the guy I just slapped.
“These guys were—”
“Go!”
Hesitantly, I slide around him, watching intently as he takes small strides toward the guy who appears to be his main focus. The others step aside, gasping. Lev may have the attitude down, but he lacks the brawn to take on any of those guys, much less a group of them.
It’s not until I see what he’s holding in his right hand that I understand why these built guys are all taking steps back, widening their circle.
A few feet away, I tuck my back into a corner and watch as Lev raises the handgun and brings it down on the guy's head with so much force I worry he cracked his skull. I choke on my breath, hand clapped over my mouth.
The guy drops to his knees, blood spilling down his face, and not one of his friends comes to his aid. Just seeing the gun triggers something inside me. The night I shot the governor flashes through my mind, and it’s like my body is reliving the experience all over again.
Lev crouches down in front of the guy, and while I can’t see his face, I can hear him. “I’ve got one bullet, motherfucker, and if you touch her again, it’s got your name on it.” His head whips around and his gaze dances from one guy to the next. “That goes for any of you. Are we clear?”
Two of the guys take off and the others nod while they retreat from Lev, who’s still holding the gun in his hand.
Before he can see that I was watching, I walk speedily down the hall, fighting to catch my breath.
I don’t stop until I’m at the round table in the student center where Maddox and Ridge are. I drop down quickly into a chair, my eyes bolting over my shoulder every couple seconds.
“Running from someone?” Maddox asks teasingly, but I see no humor in it.
I can’t tell them Lev has a gun, although they might already know. There’s a saying…friends don’t let friends drive drunk. Well, I think the same can be said in this situation.Friends don’t let their psycho friends own guns.It’s a recipe for disaster, and has me wondering if Lev has actually used it on someone. The thought terrifies me.Gunsterrify me.
I open my mouth to speak, but I close it just as fast, knowing I can’t say a word. Not when it entails Lev. I can’t do anything to piss him off because he could turn on me in a split second.Then again, he just defended me, which is odd considering he doesn’t even like me. Or so I thought.
“No,” I finally say, my heart still exploding in my chest, “just really hungry.”
Ridge side-eyes me, his eyebrow raised. “Where’s your food?”
I force a laugh and smack my hands to the table. “Oh, right. Silly me. I was so excited to eat that I totally forgot to get any.” I go to stand, but Ridge raises his hand, lowering it as he orders me back to my chair.
His chair slides back, the legs scraping against the waxed floor. “I’ve got you.” His voice is soft, but strong. “What are you in the mood for today?”
“Umm. Chicken soup and crackers is fine.”
“Drink?” He gets to his feet, towing over the table as he waits patiently for my response, but I’m too distracted to even process his question.
I look over my shoulder again and see Lev coming, so I turn back around quickly.
“Do you want anything to drink?” Ridge asks again.
“Sorry.” I shake my head, trying to dislodge the thoughts racing through my mind. "I didn’t sleep well last night. Water is fine. Thank you.”
Maddox reaches over and places a hand on my leg. “You sure you’re all right?”
I roll my lips together and nod. “I’m fine. Like I said, I didn’t sleep well.”
“Ridge?”
“No,” I tell him, “Ridge didn’t come last night.”
It’s not often he doesn’t show up at some point in the night, but last night he never came. I’m not lying when I say I didn’t sleep well. For some reason, I sleep better when Ridge is there. I feel safe knowing he’s watching, and the steady sounds of his breathing lull me to sleep.
Before I even see him, I can feel Lev’s presence as he approaches the table. My back stiffens and my shoulders draw back. Maddox massages my leg, watching me carefully. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I quip, just as a shadowy figure appears beside me. Temptation gnaws at my stomach. The need to look and see if he’s still clutching the gun is strong. Is it in his hand? Is it hidden on him? If so, where?
