Page 58 of Memories of Us

Rebeka

SOMEWHERE, RYDER SHOUTEDmy name.

I twisted toward her voice just as something solid slammed against my right cheek. The room spun at the force, and I stumbled back, arms outstretched in search of the bar or stool to steady me.

Stars still blurred my vision when an arm snaked around my waist and hauled me against a solid body. Somewhere in the distance, a rage-filled bellow vibrated in my ears.

“You're okay, sweetheart,” my old man friend whispered. Rough hands scraped down my arms and his hold tightened, securing me to his side. “Holy shit,” he murmured in awe, more to himself than to me.

At the astonishment in his tone, I blinked several times to push away the haze clouding my sight and attempted to focus on the chaotic scene in front of us. But none of it made sense. The three men from earlier lay groaning while flat on the floor, Brenton standing in the middle with his bloodied hands on his knees.

“What's going on?” I said, blinking again to clear the tears building in my right eye.

The old man started to respond but stopped as a crying Ryder pulled me into her arms.

“What's going on?” I asked again, still a little stunned. Hell, why did I take so many shots?

“You're okay. I'm here,” she whispered. “Those fucking bastards hit you, and that dumbass started it all.”

Her grip around my waist dropped as she turned to face the devastated-looking Brenton. The sadness lurking behind his eyes shredded my heart. Even though I wasn't quite sure what happened, there was no way he could’ve prevented it.

A loud smack echoed around the quieted area when Ryder's hand connected with Brenton's cheek. He didn't flinch. Didn't drop my stare. The next hit was directed to his face, but that time it was a punch.

The third hit nailed his balls.

Brenton's grunt of pain set my feet in motion toward them. Cutting me off, Kyle hauled Ryder away from Brenton, who was hunched over with his hands cradling his crotch.

Ryder thrashed and pulled at Kyle's arms, shouting at him to release her.

“Ryder, stop,” I slurred, my jaw stiff. “Don't hurt the part of him I like.”

At that, she dropped her fight. Chest still heaving, she said, “He started the whole thing.”

I looked around to the men on the floor. “More like he finished it. See that guy—”

“Why can't you see it now, Beka? He's no good for you. Every time you're around him, you end up hurt in some way. Walk away. Get the hell away from the bastard before he gets you killed.”

I turned from Brenton's stare and glared at my best friend. “Stop.”

Her eyes widened. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.” A disappointed look flashed across her features as she shook her head. “I won’t sit back and watch him hurt you all over again. He'll break you and never look back. Call me when you come to your damn senses.”

Tears welled as I watched her shove out of Kyle's arms and storm off.

The shouts and band playing flooded back as a hand gripped mine. “Sweetheart, you gotta get your boy out of here. The cops are on their way.”

In a daze, I took the three steps to Brenton and gripped his forearm. Instead of resisting like I expected, he flipped my hold to grasp my elbow and guided us through the staring crowd. Eyes focused on the sticky floor, I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, hoping to not trip over my feet or someone else’s. The last thing we needed was Brenton getting into another fight because someone accidentally tripped me.

A heavy metal door slammed at our backs as we stepped into the dark back alley. The hot night air amplified the stench of rotten food and urine.

Brenton's protective grip loosened as his hand fell to his side. After leaning against the brick wall, he bent forward, resting his palms on the tops of his knees. “Do you want to press charges?”

“What?”

“I'll stick around for the cops if you want to press charges against me. I started the fight. I'm the reason you were hit.”

A tight ball of unshed tears lodged in my throat, preventing me from responding immediately.

At my perceived hesitancy, his shoulders drooped, and he stepped toward the door we escaped through.

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