Wilson’s hand shoots out, like he thinks he’s fast enough to put a hand on her while I’m standing right there. I sweep her back behind me so his hand gets air. Frustrated, he keeps coming. I let my fist have his nose. His head jerks back with a pop and a spray of blood. He goes down hard, landing on his ass with a thud that shakes the floor.
Bardoratch erupts with an angry challenge. “If you’re not strong enough to get that little bitch under control then get out of the way.”
IfI’mnot strong enough? I’m not the one whose suit she ripped. His taunt is fucking laughable. At the moment though, I’m not in the mood to laugh.
“Fuck off,” I growl. “She’s a hundred ten pounds and wearing high heels. Who you gonna brawl next? Some toddlers?”
Bardoratch is apoplectic with rage. “You fucking low life. You don’t belong at GU, and neither does your white trash whore from the projects.”
I answer that with my fist, and he takes it on the jaw and goes down flailing, knocking over a plant stand as he falls. The crash echoes throughout the upper floor.
Wilson regains his feet, and it’s on. They rush me, and it’s all fists flying. Declan swoops in from my blindspot and knocks a Lambda Delt flat. These guys know fuck-all about fighting, but they’ve got numbers on their side, so Dec and I have to dig in and let loose on them.
Then Sorensen’s there, and it’s over. He drives forward using his massive bulk, and the whole row falls like bowling pins.
A ton more guys come pounding up the stairs, including the LD president who barks for everyone to stand down. “What’s going on, Moran?”
I’m breathing hard as I rub blood from my knuckles, but gangster rule number one is that violence is routine. When I speak it’s with the casual ease of someone who doesn’t worry about blood stains that aren’t his own. “These guys tried to start a Casanova fan club. My girl, not a fan.”
“A Casanova fan club?” The president’s eyes narrow in confusion and dart to the pummeled frat boys who are trying to regain their feet and their pride.
“Lavender roses. Casanova’s signature.” I nod at a rose Avery’s shoe hasn’t met yet.
Bardoratch wipes blood from his mouth. “It was just a joke.”
“Sure, missing girls, the perfect punchline,” Avery says. “I don’t know why there are True Crime sections in bookstores. Those stories should definitely be shelved in comedy.”
“Shut the hell up, Kershaw!” Todd snaps, causing specks of his blood to tattoo the banister. “And just so you know, when Moran drops you, I’ll be waiting.”
“Naturally,” Avery snaps back, taking a step toward him. “I’d expect nothing less from someone who’d wear a flower to gloat and glorify a sociopath.”
Todd glares at her. “You have a problem,” he hisses. “You’d better not go out alone.”
If he knew me, my dead stare would shut him up. When I don’t punch someone who needs punching, it’s because I plan to catch up to him later when there are no witnesses.
Sorensen stretches out a hand and crushes first one and then the last of the two roses that were left standing. “There, Casanova Club,” he says, his tone pavement flat. “Come for me, too.”
Avery’s eyes go from narrowed slits to saucers at Sorensen’s unexpected defense. Declan just chuckles, grace under pressure as always.
“As much fun as this has been, I think it’s time to go.” Declan claps me on the shoulder. “Shane?”
“Yeah.” I catch Avery’s arm in my hand and guide her toward the stairs.
After a moment, she resists.
Stopping to look at her, I quirk a brow. “You made your point, and Sorensen put an exclamation point after it. What more do you need?”
“Nothing,” she whispers, her expression fierce. “I just don’t want it to look like a man’s dragging me off for misbehaving.”
Ah.I release her arm. “Want to pump your fist in the air while you jog down the steps in triumph? Go ahead.” I smirk, though I know it’ll go unappreciated.
An eye-roll is the lightest response she can manage. “No victory lap. That wasn’t a victory.” Avery clutches her skirt and lifts it a couple inches, so she can hurry down the stairs.
I keep pace, watching her in my peripheral vision. Declan and Sorensen follow us down. When Avery reaches the ground floor, there are several women standing in a row. As she passes, they fall in step behind her. The women are led by Eden Buchanan, the captain of the dance team.
A guy darts forward to try to stop the blond dance queen. “Eden, where are you going?”
For a petite girl, Eden has a knack for looking down her nose at others when the situation calls for it. “I’m going the same place every girl in this place should…away from here.”
