Another punch lands with a sickening crunch. Connor collapses, groaning.
"Nate!" My voice breaks through his rage. He freezes, fist raised, chest heaving.
Jake and Ollie appear, pulling Nate back. His eyes never leave Connor, who struggles to his feet, face bloodied.
"This isn't over, Sullivan," Connor spits.
"Stay away from her." Nate's voice carries a deadly promise.
Connor glares at me. “Bitch."
Nate lunges, but Jake and Ollie hold him back. "He's not worth it, man," Ollie pleads.
"You're gonna pay for this, Sullivan!" Connor shouts as he retreats.
“Try me, asshole.” Nate spits back.
My legs threaten to give way as the adrenaline ebbs. I wrap my arms around myself. How did I get caught in the middle of this chaos?
"Nate," I call softly. He stands apart, back turned, blood staining his shirt from his split lip and knuckles. A bruise blooms under his eye—I hadn't noticed Connor landing a hit.
"I fucking told you to take her home," he snaps at Jake, his voice sharp with fury. His bloodshot eyes carry a wild edge I've never seen before.
This is all too much.
My chest constricts suddenly, lungs forgetting how to fill. The air turns thick, impossible to swallow.
"Hey Nora, are you all right?" Ollie's concern draws attention to my trembling form. Suddenly I'm on my knees, the cool sand against my skin is all I can feel until someone gathers my hair back.
"How much did she drink?" Nate's voice comes from behind me, sharp with worry.
"She wasn't really drinking," Jake answers.
"Connor was feeding her drinks all night. This is exactly why I told you to take her home."
The world tilts beneath me as I search for focus. Everything—the sand, the party's distant thrum, Nate's gentle touch in my hair—blends into a disorienting blur.
This was a mistake. The idea of losing myself in the crowd's anonymity seems stupid now.
"Hey." Nate's voice softens as he kneels beside me, his hand making soothing circles on my back. "Take a few deep breaths. Can you do that?"
I nod, closing my eyes against the dizziness.
"Good." His hand continues making circles on my back. It's not working because each breath seems to fuel the panic until tears slide down my cheeks. There's a crowd of people that's now gathered on the beach watching.
"Hey, don't worry about them." Nate shifts, moving in front of me, blocking out the curious onlookers with his broad shoulders. He cups my face gently with one hand, thumb brushing away a tear. His eyes lock onto mine, steady and grounding—now he's all I can see. The world narrows to just his face, his concerned expression, the slight furrow between his brows.
"You're okay. You're safe."
You're safe.
The words echo through me—I hadn't felt safe in so long. I focus on his face through my tears, trying to steady my breathing. The intensity in his gaze holds me there, anchoring me to the present moment instead of the panic.
He scoops up some sand, pouring it into my palm. "Feel that?"
I nod.
"Good. Feel the sand and take a few more slow breaths. In and out..." he demonstrates, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm I try to match. "In and out..."