Devon swings.
His fist catches Beck across the jaw, snapping his head sideways. I scream. Beck staggers back a step, blinking, blood already blooming at the corner of his mouth.
For half a second, he looks shocked.
Then his eyes go dark.
Beck surges forward again, tackling Devon around the middle. They slam to the ground hard, bodies colliding, the sound of it echoing down the alley. Devon grunts as Beck lands on top of him, but he twists, bucks, manages to get an elbow into Beck’s ribs.
Beck snarls, a sound I’ve never heard from him. Furious.
Devon punches him again, wild and angry, knuckles scraping Beck’s cheekbone. “You think you’re tough?” he spits. “You think you—”
Beck’s fist crashes into Devon’smouth.
Once.
Twice.
Devon’s head smacks against the pavement. He howls, scrabbling, trying to roll them over. Beck lets him, then slams him back down, forearm crushing Devon’s throat.
Devon claws at Beck’s arm, choking. “Get—off—”
“You don’t touch her,” Beck growls, voice shaking with anger.
Devon knees Beck in the stomach. Hard. Beck gasps, losing his balance just long enough for Devon to jerk free. Devon staggers upright, blood on his lip.
He lunges again.
This time Beck is ready.
They collide chest to chest. Devon swings, Beck ducks clumsily, catches Devon around the waist and drives him backward into a dumpster. Metal rattles violently. Devon’s head smacks the edge with a sickeningthunk.
Devon blinks, dazed. He tries to laugh, spits blood. “You’re gonna regret this—”
Beck slams into him, forearm crushing his windpipe, face inches from Devon’s.
“No,” Beck says, low and shaking. “You are.”
Devon’s eyes finally flicker with fear.
Beck releases him abruptly. Devon collapses to the ground, coughing violently, clutching his throat.
Beck stands over him, chest heaving, fists trembling. For a terrifying second, I think he might hit him again.
Instead, Beck takes a step back.
Devon scrambles to his feet, stumbling, pride shattered. He shoots Beck a venomous look, then turns and bolts down the alley, his footsteps uneven.
Silence crashes down.
Beck turns to me.
His face is scraped, knuckles red and slick. His eyes are unfocused, like he’s still lost in the haze of the fight.
I rush forward, hands shaking as I grab his jacket. “Beck.”
He looks at me like he’s just waking up.
