Blood coats his teeth when he tries to speak again. “I—”
I connect with his jaw again, effectively shutting him up, but now I can’t stop. I hit him with blow after blow as the rain soaks us, mixing blood with water as it streaks down Seth’s face.
“Stop!” Someone yells in the distance but stopping isn’t an option.
I’m vaguely aware of the light of someone’s camera in my peripheral, but I’m in a blind rage. Not sure at what point it’ll feel like I’ve done enough, at what point it’ll feel like I taught him the lesson I intended to teach.
But then I hear it…
The sirens.
I freeze with my fist in midair, barely able to restrain myself, but I back away, standing to my feet. My eyes never leave Seth, though. He’s breathing but can hardly keep his eyes open.
“Fuck…”
I grip my hair with both hands, and with pain shooting through my shoulder like lightning, I’m keenly aware of how badly I just fucked up.
The glare of red and blue lights reflects off the rain-slicked siding of the house. The cruiser tires screech behind me, and only now do I realize there are people everywhere. I was so focused on beating the shit out of Seth, I’m not sure how long they’ve been here. Not sure how much they’ve seen or recorded.
There are phones pointed at me from all angles, and I hear their whispers in the rain. And their whisperingmy name.
My eyes fall closed as the full scope of what I’ve done hits me. For so long, my last name has carried one hell of a stigma, thanks to my father. My brothers and I committed to showing this city they’ve been wrong about us, but now… I just ruined all we’ve fought so hard to prove.
Soon—if it hasn’t happened already—my face will be plastered all over social media, images and videos of me looking completely unhinged.
And I’m trying not to imagine what Blue will think. She’s already so distant, so distrustful… this was the last thing we needed.
Car doors open and slam behind me, then I hear the boots. Two cops close in on me, shining flashlights at my chest, my face.
“Hands where we can see them?”
I lift both hands in the air, but I don’t speak. Another cop lowers my arms behind my back, and a breath hisses between my teeth as I wince and cool metal closes around my wrists. He stands me up.
“Any weapons we should know about?”
“No,” I grumble.
“I’m gonna pat you down. Anything in your pockets that might stick me?”
“No.”
He feels both my pockets, down my pant legs, my ankles. “All clear,” he says to another officer.
The pain in my shoulder is vicious, and I’m breathing harder than before. “You’re under arrest,” he says, and I’m numb as he reads me my rights while escorting me to the back of a cruiser. He opens the door and lowers my head as I climb in. Then… he slams the door, sealing me in with the reality of what I’ve done.
I hear a familiar voice through the window but can’t make out what’s being said. I spot Ricky in the crowd, standing in the rain as he talks to the cops. His jaw is tight, and I can only guess what he’s saying, how he’s trying to plead my case.
But it’s too late for that, and whatever happens next… it’s all on me.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
West
The bright flash of the camera barely registers. My sole focus is how my shoulder screams with every inch I move.
“Turn right.”
I wince and shift with the command, feeling like the biggest dumbass that ever walked the planet. Blue’s probably thinking the same thing as she scrolls through pics on social media. An officer took my phone, but I don’t need it to know footage of the fight is playing on everyone’s screens right now.
