“Fuckyou, Lawson,” Cross said, undeterred. His voice was thick and nasal, which probably had something to do with the tape holding it together. His eyes darkened as he glowered at me. “That’s it? You’re not even going to apologize?”
I shrugged. “That would require me to feel sorry.” And I wasn’t sorry about his face. Like, at all.
His cheeks turned the color of his hair. “You know we lost last night, right?” He took another step forward. “I couldn’t play because of what you did, you fucking asshole. So you screwed us twice, once when you quit like a bitch and again when you jumped me like a fucking psycho.”
The playoffs. Hale Valley had played last night. I’d been so…occupied that I hadn’t thought about football once. At least, not Hale Valley football.
Guilt settled over me. The team hadn’t been knocked out of the playoffs in the first round in years. Some of those guys were seniors. Last night had been their swan song. They’d never lace up cleats or put on pads again.
“Come on,” Nathan said, putting a hand on Cross’s arm. “We gave him the phone. We should go.”
“Yeah,” I said. “You should.”
Nathan’s expression went from concerned to pissed off. “Jesus, Lawson. You don’t have to be such a dick about everything.”
“Sure he does,” Cross said. He shrugged off Nathan’s hand and pinned me with a hateful look he’d clearly been storing up. “Lawson is all about dick. It’s his favorite thing.”
I was suddenly in front of him, my chest brushing his. I didn’t remember moving. Maybe I hadn’t. Maybe rage had carried me there. However I’d done it, I wasdoneabsorbing Aiden Cross’s slurs.
“Leave,” I growled, “or I’ll make the rest of your face match your nose.”
Cross laughed, the sound low and nasty. He turned away.
Then he spun back, fist flying. But I sidestepped quickly, and his punch sailed past my ear. Before he’d righted himself, I pivoted and popped him in the jaw.
His head snapped to the side. He staggered but stayed on his feet. Anyone else would have gone down.
He whirled, something ugly and humiliated flashing in his eyes before he came at me again. This time, he feinted, dropping his left shoulder.
Everything slowed.
I tracked the arc of his fist, every detail of the swing thrown into sudden, crystal-sharp focus as if someone had reached into my skull and adjusted a lens I hadn’t known was blurry.
I grabbed his fist and twisted his arm down. Acracksplit the air, the sound as sharp as a bat smacking a baseball, and I half-expected to hear the roar of a crowd.
Instead, the world sped up, and Cross’s cry of agony echoed around the patio. His legs folded, and he dropped to the ground. He rolled, arm clutched against his chest.
“Fuck!” he shouted. “Oh fuck!”
Strength flooded me. Every nerve ending stood at attention. My hands shook. My jaw ached, pressure building under my gums. Saliva pooled in my mouth. The scent of copper hit my nose. Rich like wine, it coated the back of my throat.
Cross flopped like a fish on the patio, curses and garbled cries spilling from him. A splintered bone protruded from a tear in his shirt. Red spread down his sleeve.
The pressure in my gums intensified. I leaned forward, my chest vibrating.
Because I wasgrowling, I realized. Satisfaction spread through my mind. A wolf paced there, its form not quite visible but present all the same. Like catching something out of the corner of my eye.
Fangs ripped from my gums. The scent of blood thickened—a bouquet blooming under my nose. The wolf in my mind threw back its head and sang to the sky.
A loud gasp jerked my head up.
I blinked, and the patio came back in pieces. Sunlight intruded. The pavers were smooth and cool under my bare feet. The forest waited at the edge of Jesse’s backyard.
Nathan stood a short distance away, his gaze glued to my hand at my side. I lifted it, pain registering for the first time. My knuckles were ripped open. Blood smeared the back of my hand.
But the skin twitched. Slowly, it pulled together and sealed over, the wound healing before my eyes.
And Nathan’s.
