“Fuck!” He staggers backward, hands flying to his nose as blood streams between his fingers. A strangled sound comes from his lips before he manages a choked, “You broke my fucking nose.”
“That’s for Tatum,” I snarl, advancing on him. “This one’s for me.”
I rear back again, but arms wrap around my waist, yanking me backward before my fist can make contact a second time.
“Let me go!” I roar, thrashing against West’s iron grip while Damon steps between me and Ethan, who’s cowering with his back against the wall.
“You’re insane!” Ethan shouts, blood dripping onto his pristine white carpet. “I’m calling the cops!”
“Go ahead!” I spit, lunging forward only to be dragged back again. “Tell them why I’m here!”
Ethan says nothing as he brings his phone to his ear.
“You think this is over?” I yell at him, not giving a shit who’s on the other line. “Stay the fuck away from her!”
West and Damon push me back, but I twist violently in their grip, and my elbow connects with West’s ribs. “Let me go!”
He grunts but doesn’t loosen his hold.
“Stop fighting us,” Damon grinds out as Ethan’s neighbors begin peeking out their doors.
I fight them the whole way down the hall, kicking and thrashing like something feral. My vision is tunneled, focusedonly on getting back to Ethan’s door. On finishing what I started.
“He deserves worse than a broken nose,” I growl as they manhandle me.
“Settle the fuck down before you get yourself arrested,” Damon shouts as he opens the passenger side of my car and shoves me in it.
“He left bruises on her arms. He hurt her,” I snarl.
Damon freezes, his hand on the door. “For real?”
“I saw them for myself.” I nod toward the apartment. “Go on. Ask him.”
I’d love to see him fucking deny it.
“Shit,” Damon hisses, his expression torn as he glances at West.
“Should we let him go?” West asks.
Damon exhales, glancing around us as if contemplating before finally shaking his head. “No. He said he’s calling the cops, and I believe him. Let’s hope if we get Brandon the hell out of here and leave, he’ll drop it.”
Chapter 18
TATUM
It’s Friday night and instead of going to a party at Michigan State with Ethan like we’d planned, we opt to stay in.
I sink down onto the sofa beside him, seeing him for the first time since my conversation with Brandon when he flew out of Java to confront him, and the damage Brandon caused is worse than I imagined.
The purple-black bruising spreads across the bridge of Ethan’s nose and underneath both eyes, making him look like he’s wearing a grotesque mask. The swelling has distorted his usually perfect features, and a small white bandage covers where the doctor reset the bone.
I reach out and gently touch the skin beside his nose and wince. “I can’t believe he did this to you. Does it hurt?”
“Yeah, but it’s not me I’m worried about,” he says earnestly. “I’m worried about you.”
I frown. “Me?”
“Brandon’s insane, completely off his rocker and obviously unstable. I assume he came at me because you cut him off?”
