Page 13 of Fighting Spirit

“Open this door or I’m calling the cops!” Marshall calls again, accompanied by more banging.

Rowan lets out an exasperated sigh. Surely he’d be excited to be rid of me? “I’m gonna let him in before he breaks the woodwork.” He unfolds his large body from the couch, crossing to open the door to a red-faced Marshall.

Marshall is mid-yell as the door swings open, his hand raised for another knock.

“Can I help you?” Rowan’s tone is casual, as if he’s the one being imposed upon, rather than someone who’s impeding what’s obviously some kind of rescue operation.

“Where is she?”

I have to hold in a snort at that.

Maybe Marshall doesn’t realize he’s doing a Batman impression, but he’s definitely doing a Batman impression.

“Marshall?” I call out, drawing his attention to the couch.

As Marshall’s gaze meets mine, he seems to visibly deflate. He rushes into the room, carefully edging past where Rowan’s taking up most of the doorway.

“Ruth!” he calls as he reaches down to pull me up from the couch. Between the two of us, we manage to extricate my body with only a minimum of grunting, thank God. I was starting to give up hope of getting off that thing.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Marshall sounds frantic as he runs his hands over me like he’s checking for injuries. I try to step away, taken aback by how intense he’s being, only to almost topple back into the demon couch.

Before I can fall, Marshall snags me around the waist, pulling me flush against him. I try to gently move him away, but his arm is tight around me.

“Marshall, I’m fine.” I try to reassure him but he isn’t deterred, wrapping me in a bear hug that pins my arms to my side. “Hey, it’s fine, I’m fine.” I wiggle slightly, hoping he’ll get the message and release me. My throat catches as I remember how it felt earlier tonight to be carried around, trapped in someone’s hold with no way of escaping.

“Hey man, maybe give her some space, yeah?” I look over Marshall’s shoulder to see Rowan taking two long strides toward us, a deep scowl on his face that highlights a small scar above his eyebrow.

Marshall pulls back just enough to shoot Rowan a look I don’t see. I could cut the tension between them with a knife as they glare at each other, Marshall keeping a firm grip on my elbow. It’s like he thinks I’m going to tear away from him and fling myself into Rowan’s arms.

“Okay,” I cut in, trying to cool things down. “I’m fine, everything’s fine. Marshall’s gonna take me home now.”

Rowan takes us in suspiciously. “You’re fine leaving with him?” His question has Marshall’s whole body locking up.

“What is it to you?”

Rowan doesn’t even look his way, the intensity of his stare almost making me squirm. “Ruth?” he asks again.

“Y-yeah,” I stutter out. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

He nods once, like he’s not convinced, but is willing to take my word for it anyway.

“I’m her friend, asshole.” Marshall moves between us, as if he’s trying to block me from any potential attack. “You don’t need to look out for her. You’re the one who’s been keeping her here.”

“Marshall, come on-”

“Did he do anything to you?” He spins to face me.

“No, of course not-”

“If he hurt you-”

“Dude, just cool off a second,” Rowan tries to interject.

“No, I’m not gonna ‘cool off’!” Marshall yells, releasing me to step up to Rowan. As he nears, Rowan straightens up to his full height, which causes Marshall to falter, the inches Rowan has on him becoming even more apparent in close proximity.

“Buddy, I’m gonna need you to calm down before I ask you to leave.” Rowan’s voice is ice as he stares down Marshall.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Marshall looks about eight seconds away from stomping his foot.

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