Shit.I rub my eyes, as if it’ll help, and then slip back around to the front of the truck, able to see more than just the bottom half of the guy’s body.
He’s moved a little, enough to roll onto his back instead of side. His glasses are askew on his face, and his hands are palm down, like he might push himself up into a sitting position at any time.
I walk over, boots crunching on the rocks, and squat down. He blinks up at me slowly, confusion flickering, then recognition.
He tries to talk. “What the fuck?—”
I cut him off. “Get up.”
He tries, but his arms aren’t working right. I grab him by the jacket and haul him to sitting, rougher than I have to be.
“You good?” I say, voice dead flat.
He coughs, spits more blood. “She’s a crazy bitch. She fucking… She hit me…”
I tilt my head, amused by the lack of memory. “She didn’t hit you. You slipped and fell.”With a little help from me.
He looks at me, fear swimming under all that rage and pride. He tries to stand on his own, almost falls, and I let him flounder. He stumbles, and then catches himself on the hood of my truck.
I chuckle.
“What the hell, man,” he says, but it’s weak now as he rubs his head. “Did I really fall? I must’ve hit my head really hard… Damn, she’s a bitch. I’ve beensonice to her, and she’s so ungrateful.”
Something curdles in my chest, and I’m on him again, my fist curled in his sweater. “Youevertouch Dr. Williams again, you’ll need a feeding tube for the rest of your life. I promise.”
He tries for a sneer, but I release him with a hard shove. He grunts as his back slams against my grill guard. “What the fuck, man?”
“I won’t repeat myself.”
He wipes his mouth. “You’re a psycho.”
I stare him down, not giving a shit what he thinks I am. The wind knifes through the parking lot, cutting between us. The fucker is shivering so bad now I almost feel sorry for him.
“She was interested,” he mutters, more to himself than to me as he tries to stand up straight again.
“No, she wasn’t.”
“She’s got secrets, that one,” Ian keeps talking, and I don’t know why the fuck I’m even listening to him. “She’s all emotionally unavailable and playing hard to get.”
She wasn’t so hard for me to get.
I turn away then, done with this conversation. I keep an eye on him from my peripheral, and he leans there, panting and watching me. For a second I think he might swing at me from behind, but he just whines more about his head hurting.
Fucking pussy.
“Bradford!” Turner’s voice cuts through the night, his expression bewildered, Gunner trotting beside him. “What the fuck, man? You said you’d be right back. I almost fucking decked some…” His voice trails off as he spots Ian, who is now limping away from my truck. “Uh…”
“Have a nice night,” I call out to Ian, who gives me a weird wave, and then sulks off like the nasty fucking snake he probably is. I then turn to Turner. “It’s a long story.”
“Yeah…” His eyes jump back to Ian and then my split knuckles. “He looks rough… Did you…”
Knock him unconscious and fuck my daughter’s professor? Yes.
“Time to go,” I say instead. I climb into my truck without another word, and then slam the door. I just sit, hands locked on the wheel, knuckles white as Turner helps Gunner in the truck and then slides into the passenger seat.
I watch Ian drag himself to his own car, fumble the key, and finally get inside. He sits there too, head slumped against the wheel, like he’s already given up.
Good. He’s lucky I didn’t fucking kill him.
