Page 13 of Pucking Unhinged
“No, and I don’t think she will be for a really long time,” Paris tells me, pushing up on her tiptoes as if it will help her see over the crowd.
My eyes lock on Elijah’s hand when he reaches up to grasp the ring dangling off the gold chain around his neck, and his expression turns from explosively angry to pained.
What the fuck…didhe offer her up? I’m getting ahead of myself. This is stupid. They probably just got into a heated fight like most couples…I stop myself right there. The couples I know don’t actually fight. Hayden and Callum would rather cut their own arms off than do anything to upset Madi and Lilac. Tristan isn’t my boyfriend, but we don’t fight either. It just isn’t something that we do.
Aside from that, the look on Blair’s face was not that of a girl who had a spat with her hot hockey player boyfriend.
She looked livid. She looked betrayed. She looked absolutely broken.
Without warning, Paris’ hand finds mine, and there’s an urgency as she tugs me forward. “Come on, Winter, we can’t let her get lost.”
I stumble after her, and it seems like everyone is migrating into this area because the crowd grows seemingly out of nowhere, pressing us in on all sides. I glance back, searching for Tristan, for the black messy hair hooding those expressive eyes.
But he’s not behind me. In fact, he’s out of sight completely.
And suddenly, I’m living my worst nightmare.
TRISTAN
The moment I realize Winter isn’t beside me, everything blurs around me. I literally black out, and I know that whatever is about to happen could be very bad for everyone around me. The costumed dancers, the screams from people dumb enough to trust the safety of these carnival rides, the flashing lights, I don’t notice any of it anymore. I have tunnel vision, and the only thing I’m worried about is finding her. One minute she was talking to Paris and the next she was swallowed up by a crowd of people migrating from the games and food side of the venue. My chest locks tight as I try to check her tracker, but I have no service in here. That’s all it takes to send me into a panic.
Benjamin appears at my side. His eyes are wide, frantic, the same as mine. We don’t need words because he’s more like me than either of us would care to admit. He’s just as hung up on Paris as I am on Winter, so neither of us will give each other shit when this is over. We’ll either find them quickly and cling to them like our lives depend on it…because they kind of do. Or, I’m setting this whole fucking place on fire. Callum’s deep-fried, funky Oreos and all.
We drive into the crowd, shoving bodies out of the way. People stumble, yell, try to push back. I don’t care. Benjamin doesn’t either. His shoulder knocks a guy flat. My elbow catches another in the ribs. We’re bigger. Meaner. I do not give a single fuck who I’m bulldozing right now. Why are they all just fucking congregating in the middle like this? They all look stunned, confused and I’m fucking confused on why they’re confused.
“WALK, Goddamit!” Ben yells out, and I’m just pushing through people as fast as I can. This is a fucking fire hazard to have this many people in one area. Where did they all fucking come from? This is like being in a real life night terror, and I can feel my chest tightening and closing in on me.
Someone from St. Charles University waves a lanyard and shouts at us, pointing toward the exits, yelling about a fire. I barely hear him. Did I…? I was kidding about burning the place to the ground.
Kind of.
Two more guys in black jackets, swinging their badges like either of us give a fuck, try to block us, stepping in like they have any kind of authority here. Wrong move. My fist cracks against the taller one’s jaw, dropping him hard. Benjamin takes the second down without hesitation. It’s brutal, but quick. I glance over and see the fucking fire they’re freaking out about. It’s just smoke now billowing out of a tent that appears to be selling apothecary shit.
This is what they’re causing a fucking fuss over? They’re just in my way. And anyone in the way is going down with them. I’m not sure which way they pushed Winter and Paris, but I better find out immediately or they’re all getting their faces kicked in.
Around the corner, trying to push by someone in a black jacket, I finally see her. Winter. She’s being dragged out of the crush, Paris clinging to her arm. They’re trying to make her go the long way around the Ferris wheel. But I can see in her wildeyes what’s going through her mind. She’s trying to get back to me, and if my phone isn’t working in this fucking place, neither is hers. My chest seizes, then I swear it feels like it splits wide open, a flood of relief so raw it makes my knees threaten to buckle. She’s fine, but it’s not enough. I need to touch her.
“Dushen’ka!” I yell her name. In fact, I scream it, and instantly her eyes are locked on mine.
It’s still not enough.
I go for her, nothing else in my head but closing the distance, but a uniformed guard that must have been hired by the universities collectively, steps in front of me. His taser is raised, and I suspect he doesn’t realize that I’d gladly let him use it just to get to her. I’m all panic, and no cognition right now. His voice is all bark, words I don’t process. Just the weapon, the line he thinks he can draw between me and her.
I don’t stop. I quite literally can’t. My brain feels like it’s gone. My body is already moving through him, ready to take the hit.
Then she’s here with me, but she’s not hugging me or clinging to me like I’m anticipating.
Winter broke away from Paris and ran straight into the path of danger, right in front of me. Her arms spread wide and lifted up as high as they’ll go. Her small frame is doing its absolute best to block my much larger one. She’s shielding me, afraid they’re going to hurt me because she knows that when I’m like this nothing matters.
Everything inside me goes silent.
Her hands stay raised high, her chin is tipped up like she’s daring the whole world to strike her instead of me. My heart cracks in my chest.
She’s protecting me, giving herself to save me, and I don’t even know what to fucking do with that information in this moment.
Winter shouts before I can get a word out. "He has panic attacks. He was just looking for me. I’m his sister!"
The word cuts. Sister. I hate it in her mouth, the way it makes everything between us feel sour and wrong. But she says it to keep me from being hurt, or at the very least getting in trouble for disobeying orders.
