Red-faced and on the verge of raging at the interruption, the jock whirled, ready for a confrontation that Dean was all too prepared for. Except the jock came up short, clasping a hand over his nose as blood dripped from his nostrils.
While I held my throbbing knuckles to my chest.
I had punched him square in the face without thinking and had never felt a more intense wave of satisfaction. Though I doubted I would resort to punching my way through all my problems. This was a one-off — a great one-off. And it hurt like hell.
“What the fuck?” the jock whimpered, backing away out the door as blood leaked through his fingers.
I breathed out heavily and turned back to Dean, feeling a little lightheaded from the rush of adrenaline. He had already scooped Jane off the bed, holding her in his arms as he smiled at me with pride. “Nicely done.”
A smile threatened to tug at my lips, but I pulled my focus on Jane. Everything else could wait, including checking I didn't just fracture my hand. I only wanted to get her out of there.
Dean walked ahead of me this time with Jane coming in and out of consciousness in his arms.
“How much do you think she drank?” I asked, brushing Jane’s auburn hair from her face as I followed him down the stairs.
“Not sure, but she’s gonna regret it later.”
Jane groaned, and Dean picked up his pace to the front door. The sight of him carrying a barely conscious girl through the entry hall caused people to move aside. They watched us curiously while I opened the door for him.
Once we left the house, Dean took Jane straight to the hedge in the small front garden. Planting her feet on the ground but keeping an arm around her waist as she bent over. I hurried to her other side and pulled her hair back, just in time for her to throw up all over the perfectly kept little garden at our feet. The alcohol and whatever Jane had eaten beforehand, cooked under the early afternoon sun, and I grimaced slightly at the smell.
“Is she okay?” Lydia stood nearby on the sidewalk.
“She is now,” Dean said, right as Jane vomited again.
I rubbed Jane’s back and looked around for anything for her to use in the car ride home. My eyes landed on the drunks lying on the garden wall nearby. They didn't notice us there, so I doubted they would miss their plastic bag holding their beer cans. I snatched it up, tipped the cans out on the lawn, and brought the bag back to Jane.
“Hey!” The angry shout came from the porch, where the jock, with his nose bleeding, stood with a couple of his friends.
Dean scooped Jane up again and headed for the street. I ushered for Lydia to start walking, trying to ignore that the boys started to follow us.
“You broke my nose, bitch!” the jock spat as we crossed the street.
“Lily, do me a favor and get my keys from my pocket,” Dean said, stopping beside the Cadillac. He hoisted Jane up, readjusting his hold, as he nodded down his right side.
I moved quickly, aware the boys were approaching us as I reached into the right pocket of his shorts.
“They’re getting close,” I muttered to him as I pulled the keys out and unlocked the driver's door.
“I know,” he said calmly, without so much as a glance in their direction.
I reached in, popped the seat forward, and then stepped aside for Dean to lower Jane into the backseat.
“It’s Lydia, right?” Dean said gently to Jane’s friend. He offered her a hand and helped her into the backseat too, taking the plastic bag from me and giving it to her. “I’m gonna need you to make sure she gets any vomit in here, alright?”
Lydia nodded in silence, slowly taking the bag as she eyed Dean, and then the boys outside.
“Good...” He popped the front seat back and closed the door with a quiet thump.
With few of us outside the car, it was then that the jocks stepped off the curb.
Dean still hadn’t turned around, instead, he looked at me as I stood beside him. “You might wanna get in the car, Lily.”
There was a subtle warning in my voice when I muttered, “Dean.”
“I’m just gonna talk to them,” he shrugged, finally turning around but keeping his eyes on me. He slid his hands into his pockets and leaned against the car. His attention flicked to the jocks. “Can I help you boys?”
I moved around the front of the car, slowing at the passenger door to watch from over the roof.
