He dropped his weight into a squat. His inside leg slid behind Vincent’s as he landed a merciless strike to the groin with his fist. Vincent’s breath left him in a grunt, his grip loosening.Oliver pivoted, leveraged the shift, and took Vincent’s legs out, flipping him onto the pavement with a brutal thud. He delivered a swift kick to his midsection to keep him down, then sprinted toward me without looking back.
I met him partway, my arms already outstretched, bracing for the impact as he ran into me with a force born of equal parts relief and fear. I wrapped him in my arms, sealing him against me. “You’re safe now, angel,” I murmured into his hair. “I’ve got you.”
“Did you see? I did it. I did what you taught me.”
“Damn right you did. Textbook.” I kissed his head. “You were brilliant.”
He eased back and I caught the bloom of a bruise high on his cheekbone, the skin already darkening. My thumb brushed the edge of it, careful not to press.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“He laid his hands on you. That’s bad by definition.”
A groan on asphalt snapped my attention toward Vincent as he tried to push himself upright. The others closed in.
“Stay down,” Brent said, his voice granite-hard.
Sarah spoke on the phone. “Yes, back lot. Assault caught in progress, perpetrator restrained. We need units now.”
I exhaled. My team was here as backup and Oliver was safe. Alive. In my arms. Right where he belonged.
Shawn jogged up, phone in hand. “Got the whole thing. Continuous recording from when we exited the building. You can actually hear the impact when Oliver flips him.” His business tone slipped as he turned to Oliver, eyes sparkling. “Which, yes, queen, chef’s kiss. Ten out of ten for form and devastating follow-through. I haven’t felt that level of cathartic empowerment since Beyoncé droppedLemonade.
Oliver looked up at me. “I can’t take credit. Luke taught me that.”
I kissed his temple. “Take the credit, angel. You earned that one.”
“I’m living for the Hallmark energy between you two,” Shawn said. “And yes, our Luke is a stellar teacher, but he’s right, teaching only gets you so far. The execution was all you.” He angled his phone toward Oliver. “Feast your eyes on this freeze-frame where you yeet him like last season’s Prada.”
Oliver wrinkled his nose. “Okay, let’s not slander Prada. I would never be caught throwing around Italian luxury fashion. Let’s call it what it is. I took out the trash. Straight into the dumpster where it belonged.”
Shawn cracked up, clutching his chest. “Oh, I like you.” Then he pivoted to me, lowering his voice into a conspiratorial whisper that remained plenty loud. “And you, my beloved slab of protective muscle. First, congratulations on securing the prettiest man these eyes have ever seen. Luke, when you commit, you commit. The aesthetic? The dynamic? Exquisite. Himbo protector meets gorgeous twink? You are a fanfic trope come to life. Second, holy hello, the way you launched across that asphalt? Full apex predator defending his mate energy. Feral. Hot. I need hydration just thinking about it.” He thrust his phone toward Oliver. “Oliver, darling, drop your number so I can send you the footage. Trust me, queer man to queer man, you will thank me later.”
“Shawn,” Brent said, half a warning, half an exhale of exasperation.
“Relax, Daddy Discipline,” Shawn said with a shooing gesture. “We’ve got the bad guy on the ground, the lovebirds are united, safe in each other’s arms, and the cops are enroute. I’m simply restoring balance to the emotional ecosystem with levity.”
“Luke...” Oliver said, his voice coming out reedy.
My attention snapped away from Shawn and Brent and zeroed in on him.
“Easy,” I murmured, tightening my hold as his weight sagged into me. I looked up at the others. “Sorry, can you...”
“We’ve got it covered,” Dean said. “Go. Take care of him.”
I guided Oliver away from the commotion, toward a small strip of grass near the lot’s edge, lowering us both to the ground so he could lean against me.
That’s the thing about adrenaline, it’s a cruel, two-faced savior. It carries you through the moment, lending impossible strength, sharpening reflexes, and holding you upright when you should collapse, only to abandon you once the danger passes, leaving your body to deal with the debt it racked up. Oliver’s system cashed that check now.
His skin, warm moments ago, had cooled beneath my touch, leaving a faint dampness. Goosebumps formed on his arms and the tremor in his limbs had graduated into a full-bodied shiver.
“I . . . I feel weird. Lightheaded,” he said.
“I think your body is starting to go through the aftereffects of the adrenaline spike. The fight-or-flight response is shutting off now the immediate threat is gone. It can throw you for a bit of a loopty loop, but you’re okay.”
He looked down at his trembling form. “This is normal?”
“Your body’s experiencing a massive physical and chemical change, so yeah. Your brain is trying to readjust, and the best it can do is tremble its way through it.”
