Red hair. I was looking for him, and I found him. I couldn’t focus.Too drunk.
Who hurt you?
A belt. It looked like someone had hit the boy with a belt. Red hair. It was Asher.
Who hurt you?
I said those words to Asher. I said them then, and I said them tonight. The same three words.
My eyes widened, a metaphorical gut punch nearly causing me to vomit.
“Someone’s hurting Asher.”
I don’t know how I didn’t cause a five-car collision, but I pulled a U-turn on the main stretch and cranked it from a normal 35 miles per hour to about 85 in seconds. I didn’t slowdown at yellow lights. Laws were a thing of the past. The backroads were dark, but I didn’t slow down, the car racing to my destination.
Asher’s apartment complex came into view. I didn’t even waste time trying to find a normal parking spot. I parked in front of the building, put on my blinkers, and raced to the front door.
That feeling was back. The feeling that comes when you know something in your gut. That kind of intuition is never wrong. When something inside screams at you to act now or forever regret it, then you fucking move.
I didn’t buzz Asher’s apartment because I wanted to know what wasreallyhappening.
My fingers pushed every button at the complex except for Asher’s, praying to God that one of the residents would let me in. It was midnight, so I knew the chances were slim.
Please let someone be waiting for a midnight munchies delivery.
I startled at the harsh buzzing sound. Someone was letting me in. I ripped open the doors and ran up the fucking stairs faster than I’d ever moved in my life.
I reached Asher’s apartment door, and I heard it—fucking heard it.
The crisp sound of flesh being smacked. Grunts and tussling. A booming voice saying something vile. Then a crash. I recognized the voice screaming back.
It’s him. Asher. He’s fighting back.I could hear the scuffle between two men, and my entire body reacted.
I threw myself against the door.
I did it again.
And again.
The old door started to give, so I pulled back and gave thefucker a hard kick.
It flew open, and I saw Asher lying on the hallway floor, fighting for his life against some fucker with black hair who was on top of him. His hands were around Asher’s throat.
My vision turned red. A high-pitched sound rang out in my ears. I didn’t feel my body approach, but one moment I was at the doorway and, the next, I was grabbing the fucker on top of Asher by his hair and throwing him into the kitchen.
Sound returned. A woman was screaming, threatening to call the police.
Fuck it. Let her.
I approached the monster writhing on the ground and kicked him once in the stomach and once in the head.
He started wailing as blood poured from his nose.
He tried to crawl away, but I grabbed him by the back of his head and tossed him in the opposite direction. His body crashed into the cabinets lining the kitchen. I closed the distance between us. I wasn’t thinking anymore. I just wanted to end the fucker’s life because he hurt Asher.My buddy. My best friend.
My fist came down with a vengeance, smashing that fucker’s face. Someone grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back. Hands gripped the side of my face, and Asher came into view.
“Theo! Theo, look at me. Look atme.Not him. Look. At. Me.”
