It didn't matter who was in greater need, it was their pain or their interests that deserved to be dealt with first.
Daryl, Seaton's ex, was concerned about himself.
He knew that she was afraid of her ex.
She didn't know the story behind them, but he knew enough to surmise that she wanted him and their relationshipto be behind her.
Seaton had been opening up all day, but as soon as she knew that her ex was out on the street, screaming for her, she'd changed.
She'd grown smaller and smaller in front of him and while she wanted to talk to her ex alone, Sam couldn't leave her alone with him.
It had only taken a few comments for Daryl to take a swing at her.
That's when he'd stepped in.
Daryl was broader in the shoulders than himself. He also had the advantage of weight, but Sam could handle himself.
The problem was that he was worried about Seaton getting in the way and being hurt.
When he heard Abe behind him, he knew that Seaton was being taken care of, he put his entire focus on the man in front of him.
"Let go of me, asshole."
Sam shook his head. Daryl certainly liked to curse.
Had he said a single sentence without adding a swear word?
Sam didn't have an issue with swearing, but just like anything else in the world, it made sense to use it in moderation.
The other man's anger was seeping from his pores.
Bleeding into the air around them.
Like the fumes of whiskey that filled Sam’s nose.
It felt like a gas leak, filling the air with impending danger.
He needed to stop the other man before his frustrations caught flame and burned them all to the ground.
"You should leave."
Daryl took his words as if it was just a helpful suggestion. "I don't think I will. I'm taking Seaton home with me and if you know what's good for you-"
Sam heard a police siren and turned his head.
A moment later he realized his mistake.
Pain shot through his jaw and he lost his footing, staggering back on the sidewalk and ending up on his butt with a sharp pain shooting up his spine.
"Sam!"
He braced himself with his hand down on the concrete, managing to keep his eyes on Daryl.
The man showed his true colors when he backed up a few steps and then ran around to the driver's seat of his car.
He was in and gone, tearing off down the quiet residential street like he was in a NASCAR race.
The first police car that rolled past them picked up speed to follow the Jaguar, the second stopped at the curb.
