And I’m just standing here.
Do something.
My heart is hammering against my ribs. My palms are slick with sweat. I think about last night. Seth swaying on his feet, barely coherent, but still stepping between Tanner and me without hesitation. Still taking that first punch. Still making sure I was okay before he let himself fall apart.
He doesn’t even remember doing it. And now he’s going to be arrested for it.
Screw this.
“Leo, wait,” I say.
Every head turns toward me.
Seth’s gaze finds mine too, and something flickers across his face.
“I was there last night, during the incident,” I say, walking forward until I’m standing near the group. “I hadn’t had anything to drink, and I was completely sober.” I meet Leo’s eyes, willing him to believe me. “You can check with the officer at the station, and Barb was on duty when I picked Seth up. Tanner approached us on the street. He was drunk. Aggressive. Verbally abusive. And he threw the first punch.”
Silence.
The kind of quiet that presses against your eardrums and makes you hyperaware of every tiny sound. The horses shifting in the pen. The wind rustling through dry grass. My own blood pounding in my ears.
Leo’s frown deepens. “June, this is a formal arrest. I can’t just?—”
“I’m telling you what I saw. Tanner shoved me to the ground and then went after Seth. Seth was defending himself. Defendingme.”
More murmurs from the crowd and wide-eyed stares.
Seth’s gaze on me intensifies. His blue eyes are wide, intense, boring into me with an expression that makes my breath catch.
“Itisyou,” he breathes. “From last night. You—you were the one who?—”
He breaks off, brow furrowing, like he’s trying to grab hold of something slippery. Trying to piece together fragments that don’t quite fit.
My face heats. I remember last night, him against me, his face inches from mine, that low voice telling me I was his scent match. The way he looked at me in that motel room, like I was something worth remembering.
And now he’s staring at me the same way.
I tear my gaze away and focus on Leo, because if I keep looking at Seth, I’m going to combust right here in front of everyone.
“I’m willing to come down to the station and give a formal statement,” I state. “But I’m telling you the truth, Leo. Tanner started that fight. Not Seth.”
Leo hesitates. His gaze darts from me to Seth to his father to the crowd of onlookers, all watching with interest.
“I still have to bring him in,” he says finally. “Formal procedure. But if you want to make a statement, it’ll be taken into consideration.”
“You have a witness confirming he didn’t strike first,” Seth’s father cuts in. “Surely that means restraints aren’t necessary.”
A muscle ticks in Leo’s jaw. But he glances at the crowd, at the phones I’m now noticing in several hands, probably recording every second of this.
“Fine.” He clips the cuffs back onto his belt. “But you’re coming with me voluntarily. Any trouble and this gets a lot worse for you.”
Seth nods once, sharp. “Understood.”
Leo steps back, gesturing toward the patrol car parked near the entrance. Seth starts to follow, then stops. Turns back to stare at me.
Those blue eyes hold mine, and there’s so much in that gaze—gratitude, confusion, intensity.
“I’ll see you at the station, then,” he confirms.
