Page 134 of Break Away
Then she let go.
I stood before I could change my mind, before the sight of her on the floor with tears on her face made me forget the man waiting in the bar had earned every bit of what was coming. I backed away one step, then another, keeping my eyes on her until the hallway turned and the wall took her from me.
Behind me, the Sin Bin roared back into focus.
Maddox was still breathing the same air as her, and I went to fix that.
13
Easton
I reached the end of the hallway and grabbed the collar of my hoodie before I even saw the room.
The fabric dragged roughly across my face as I ripped it over my head with enough force to turn one sleeve inside out. The second the colder air touched my arms, the noise inside The Sin Bin shifted. Conversations thinned. A stool scraped. Someone muttered my name like a warning.
Good.
Warnings were for men who hadn’t already decided.
I tossed the hoodie onto the nearest chair without slowing. My shirt clung too hot against my back, and my hands flexed at my sides as I crossed the bar. The whole place went alert in pieces, like every table could smell violence coming but nobody wanted to be the first person smart enough to leave.
Maddox was still near the basketball table, sitting now because apparently his boys had decided pretending to be calm counted as a strategy. Two of them had taken their seats again, hands wrapped around their beers and eyes fixed too intently on the table to look casual. Another leaned back with his arms crossed, but his knee bounced beneath the chair.
Maddox saw me coming and stood too quickly. His chair knocked against the table behind him.
Briggs stepped halfway into my path. “East.”
I didn’t look at him. “Move.”
Rider was on my other side, quiet and tense. “You checked on her?”
I kept walking. “Yep.”
“Is she okay?”
Not even a little.
“No.”
That one word did what all my shouting wouldn’t have. Briggs’s face changed. Rider’s jaw flexed. Neither of them stepped in front of me again.
Maddox lifted both hands when I got close, trying for a laugh and landing nowhere near one. “Man, come on. You had your little hallway hero moment. We’re done.”
I grabbed him by the throat.
The sound that came out of him was small, wet, and satisfying enough that something ugly inside me smiled.
“We’re not done,” I said.
His hands clawed at my wrist, his eyes widening as I walked him backward hard enough that his heels skidded across the sticky floor. The basketball table exploded to its feet behind him, chairs scraping and voices rising, but nobody put their hands on me. Maybe it was because hockey stood with me. Maybe it was because Briggs turned and looked at the entire table like he was begging someone to give him a reason.
I got into Maddox’s face and tightened my grip until his pulse jumped against my palm.
“Let’s go, motherfucker,” I said. “You need a lesson in manners.”
Then I slammed him into the front door.
The impact cracked through the bar, wood, metal, and bone striking at once. The door flew open from the force, and cold night air rushed inside with rain, exhaust, and the wet slap of traffic beyond the parking lot. Maddox stumbled across the threshold, lost his footing on the slick pavement, and landed on his ass outside.
