My body moved before my brain caught up.
I was out my door and back in the hall in seconds, sneakers slapping against the cold tiles. Nicole’s door was closed, but the noise bleeding through it was worse up close. Something hit the wall hard enough to rattle it.
“Don’t walk away from me,” James yelled.
That was it.
I didn’t knock.
I backed up, then took a running shove into the door with my shoulder and every pound of weight I had in me. The door opened so hard it slammed into the wall behind it, the sound sharp and explosive.
Nicole was in the middle of the living room, eyes wide, breath coming fast. A lamp lay shattered near the couch. One of her jerseys, framed and signed, was crooked on the wall, the glass spiderwebbed.
James stood a few feet from her, chest heaving, fists clenched. He turned toward the sound of the door opening.
Toward me.
For half a second, nobody moved. Then something in me snapped clean through.
I crossed the room in three strides and swung blindly.
My fist connected with his jaw with a crack that echoed off the walls. The impact jolted up my arm, solid and final. James went down hard, stumbling back into the coffee table before hitting the floor.
Nicole screamed my name. I think. The rushing in my ears made it hard to know for sure.
James rolled, groaning, spitting blood onto the rug. He stayed down for a beat, just long enough for me to register the shock on Nicole’s face.
“Landon, what the hell are you doing?” she yelled.
I opened my mouth to answer, but James was already moving. He surged up off the floor with a snarl and launched himself at me.
We collided near the couch, the force knocking us both sideways. My shoulder slammed into the wall. He swung wild, catching me in the ribs. Pain flared, and I doubled over.
“Get out of my way,” he spat. “This is none of your business.”
I grabbed his shirt and shoved him back, hard. He crashed into the shelving unit, sending pucks, photos, and framed memorabilia tumbling to the floor.
“It became my business,” I said, my voice low and shaking with something ugly, “the second you put your hands on anything in here.”
He laughed bitterly and swung again. I ducked, drove my shoulder into his gut, and we went down together, crashing into the coffee table. Wood splintered. Something sharp bit into my palm, but I didn’t care.
Nicole was shouting now, frantic. “Stop it. Both of you, stop!”
James kneed me in the thigh. I grunted and shoved back, adrenaline drowning out the pain. We rolled, knocking into the couch, the wall, anything within reach.
“You think you’re some hero,” he snarled, trying to land a punch. “You think she wants you.”
That did it.
I slammed him back onto the floor and climbed over him, my knee pinning his chest down. He struggled, hands clawing at my arms, but I had the leverage now. I fisted the front of his shirt and hauled him up just enough that his head snapped forward.
My face was inches from his.
“You stay the hell away from her,” I said. My voice didn’t sound like mine. It was rough, stripped bare. “You hear me? Stay the fuck away from her or I won’t let up next time.”
His eyes flicked past me, to Nicole. Then back to me. Something like fear crept in around the edges of his anger.
I shoved him away hard.
