“Go home,” Everett snarled. Bar fights and petty disagreements were Caleb’s thing—Everett did his best to stay out of them until it came time to save Caleb’s ass—but there was nothing petty about this. Everett would not stand by in silence while another person was being threatened. Jayne was a stranger, but he deserved respect. Everett would fight for him.
The asshole wouldn’t win.
“Everett?” Caleb asked uncertainly.
“Go.Home,” Everett repeated, spitting the words through nearly clenched teeth. “Leave him the fuck alone.”
The asshole’s attention had been zeroed in on Caleb for the majority of the encounter, but when Everett spoke, his attention shifted. There was hate in his eyes—abrasive, corrosive hate that would bore through flesh and rip apart the soul if it wasn’t handled carefully. From that look alone, Everett knew that what had happened tonight wasn’t a ploy for attention or a momentary occurrence that would be gone come morning. If the asshole was left alone with Jayne, he would hurt him.
Fuck that.
Fuck.That.
The asshole said nothing. For a prolonged moment, he focused his caustic attention on Everett, then, with a single shake of his head, he turned around and left. Everett watched him go, on guard, until he disappeared into the crowd on Wabash. Only then did he let his shoulders slump.
It was over.
Everett touched his hand to the back of his head to check for blood, but it came back clean. Somehow, they’d both made it out relatively unscathed.
“Holy shit, Everett!” Caleb crowed. He smacked Everett on the back, beaming. “What you just did there? The dark kind of murder-voice you just used? Hot asfuck.”
Murder-voice. Everett closed his eyes and let a stale breath out slowly through his mouth. There was no need for him to stay on edge now that the asshole was gone, but he couldn’t get rid of the pins and needles down his arms and the stiffness constricting his spine. “What the hell was that about?”
“Shit if I know. Glitter-Chest probably dumped his ass and he got butt-hurt he was rejected.”
That wasn’t the whole story. It couldn’t have been.
“His name is Jayne,” Everett said.
“Jay?”
“Jayne. I think. Unless the asshole was completely insane.”
Caleb snorted. “I wouldn’t put it past him. A guy named Jayne?”
“Your mechanic’s name is Kelly,” Everett pointed out. “I went to school with an Ashleigh.”
“Still,Jayne?”
“It doesn’t matter what his name is.” Everett shook off the last of his nerves, then turned and headed for where Jayne lay. He hadn’t moved since Everett had last checked on him—his arm was still folded beneath his head, the other extended from his body. The puddle he’d had the misfortune to fall into glistened with oil—Everett was fairly sure it had nothing to do with the copious amounts of body glitter he was wearing. “He needs our help. We can’t leave him like this, especially with an abusive asshole on the prowl.”
“Shit.” Caleb approached, then squatted down beside Jayne. “Do you think he hit his head? You’re not supposed to move someone who has a head or neck injury, right?”
“I don’t know.”
“Calling an ambulance is probably a bad idea. He might not have insurance, and if I pay for it, my dad is going to flay me alive.” Caleb glanced at Everett. “You down to help me carry him? I figure if I’m on one side, and you’re on the other, and we’ve both got him supported beneath his armpits, we should probably be able to transport him.”
“And if he’s got a neck injury?”
“Well, if he’s got a neck injury, he’s fucked.” Caleb reached out and carefully laid a hand on the back of Jayne’s neck. “I don’t know. You probably could feel if something was off, right? Or there’d be redness or swelling or some kind of awful crooked angle that’d signal something was wrong? I don’t see or feel anything abnormal. He’s probably fine.”
It sounded feasible. Everett shrugged. “I think you’re right.”
“Then I’m going to call an Uber and request it meet us over on St. Paul—we’ll leave via Washington to avoid the crowd. I don’t think we’d be too well-received if we show up on Wabash carrying a zonked-out, half-naked party boy.”
Everett couldn’t argue with that.
While Caleb put in the request for a driver, Everett remained crouched by Jayne’s side. He lifted his arm from the puddle and laid it near his body, then tucked the open flaps of Jayne’s shirt closer to his chest, hoping that doing so might help keep him warm.
