Page 105 of Whispers of Wisteria
I gripped his sleeve tightly. “But isn’t this my fault?”
“Sure.” Bryce shrugged, and the corner of his mouth lifted once more. “You weakened their restraint. Otherwise, Miles would never directly go after Damen. But Damen’s been begging for someone to kick his ass, and it’s better for it to be Miles than Julian.”
“Tell me how to stop the thing.” I pulled at Bryce’s shirt. “I don’t want them to fight!”
Bryce sighed, throwing another long-suffering look at the two brawling men. “You’ve already stopped. But they’re involved now. I can jump in if you want. Can I break Damen’s nose? That should get his attention.”
He sounded almost thrilled at the prospect.
“No!” I covered my eyes and peeked through my fingers as Damen swung at Miles. He barely missed the witch, then narrowly sidestepped Miles’s attempt to kick his left knee. “There are more peaceful ways of getting their attention,” I added.
“Please don’t do anything idiotic.”
“They won’t hurt me.” I ducked under Bryce’s arm and rushed to them.
In retrospect, there were several better options I could have resorted to. For example, I could have swooned, cried, or even thrown the soccer ball at their heads. Another, of course, would be to announce the presence of a ghost—Miles, at least, would have been on top of things then.
However, logic was not my strongest instinct in the moment. Witnessing them going after each other in this way…
It was impossible to think clearly.
Guilt flooded me, and my vision tunneled. I had to stop them from hurting each other.
And this sort of thing always worked in the movies.
“Stop!” I slipped into the small space between them as they readied themselves for another attack and held out my arms. “Don’t fight anymore!”
Miles’s lip was bleeding already, and his arms were protecting his torso. However, the instant my fingers brushed his forearm, the witch froze. His posture relaxed as the feral anger in his eyes disappeared.
Damen, on the other hand…
He didn’t notice me at all.
I began to raise my hands to cover my head, but I wasn’t fast enough, and I’d barely squeezed my eyes shut before the blunt force of his fist slammed into my jaw.
The impact threw me off my feet. For a split second, I felt nothing. Then, pain bloomed—hot, sharp, and all-consuming. I crashed into Miles before falling onto the hard gymnasium floor.
I couldn’t breathe as I lay on the ground with my hands pressed against my mouth.
Gosh, he hit hard.
“Bianca!” Miles touched my shoulder, but I flinched. The weight vanished instantly.
It felt like cotton balls had been stuffed into my ears, and the already heavy atmosphere grew even thicker.
“Fuckingmove.” Damen’s curse sounded loud against the others, and I was pulled into someone’s lap. I whimpered and curled tighter as I fought to keep my stomach from turning.
“Put her down,” Bryce ordered somewhere in the background, tone livid.
Damen’s chest rumbled against my ear. “Don’t even try it right now.”
I stiffened, my dread becoming tangible.
“Bianca?” Damen’s rough, shaking hand pressed against the back of my head.
I was nauseated with fear, but then I felt terrible about feeling this way.
It was an accident.
