“You got eyes, Dyers.” Zach warns, “Let her go.”
If anything, he does the opposite.
When she cries out in pain, I sneer. “Is it true what they say, Derek? That you’re counterfeit in all ways?”
As a distraction, it works.
Addison manages to free herself from his grasp. She scurries away, ignoring his, “Addison! Come?—”
“What is she? A dog,” I bluster.
When Addison whips around, fear etched into her expression, she backs out of the diner in her haste to get out of there.
He turns to me with a snarl. “You think you can say shit like that without repercussions, you fat cunt?”
Zach jumps to his feet in my defense, but I smirk. “Better that than a?—”
His fist flies loose and fast. But I grew up with boys. I’m used to ducking. And before he gets within an inch of my face, Zach’s hand is there, gripping his wrist tight enough for him to squeal.
It takes a second for shit to deteriorate. Another punch triggers a spray of blood and a tooth plops onto Pecan’s half-eaten stack of pancakes. Then, like he’s whipping a tablecloth over the surface, Zach wrestles Dyers onto the table.
I shriek as food flies everywhere, maple syrup colliding with eggs as it merges into tooth-speckled and blood-spattered pancakes while Derek flies over the dishes until Zach has him right where he wants him—close enough for his fist to collide with his face with no distance to impact the blow.
“Zach!” Alec bellows as Zach hits the other guy twice more.
“You got this, bro!”
Alec shoves Pecan in the side. “Don’t encourage him!”
“Let him go, man,” Mason inserts.
I can tell that he and the bulk of the team didn’t expect Zach to take this so far.
But there’s the catch—I did.
I knew it.
It’s why I started what I couldn’t finish.
More guilt hits me because I knew Zach would have my back. I guess I knew Pecan would too, but not like Zach.
Zach, seething, his hand tightening around Dyers’s collar, rumbles, “Give me one good reason not to bust your face wide open, Dyers. Especially as I have a crowd here who can confirm I got in between you hitting Denver, unprovoked,andthat we repeatedly asked you to leave.”
Dyers, pale and sweating, bleats, “You moron. No one will side with you.”
Gregg chuckles. “What the fuck makes you think we’d ever haveyourback? You’re an asshole, Dyers.”
“Nah,” Joker mocks. “He gives anal sphincters a bad name.”
“Alec will take my side.”
I cut a look at the cap, noticing he seems distinctly displeased. But he confirms his stance with: “Denver did verbally?—”
“No way,” Mason growls, not even letting Alec finish his statement.
“That’s bullshit.” Pecan jabs a finger at the air. “I can’t believe you’re taking this fuckface’s side when he came over to disturb us while we were minding our own business.
“I don’t care about the rest of you, but I know exactly what happened and I’ll speak up about it as well.”
