“I don’t think so.” Rusty shoved the table, slamming it into Tyler’s thighs and knocking him back a step.
The restaurant had gone quiet. Everyone was watching now.
Tyler steadied himself. “Walk away.”
“Too late.”
Rusty swung, wild and fast. Tyler got an arm up in time, but Rusty’s other hand drove in low and hard, cracking into his ribs. Pain tore through his side.
Tyler lost his footing and went down hard. Rusty was on him immediately, his fist slamming into Tyler’s jaw. Stars burst across Tyler’s vision.
Brooke shouted something, sharp and urgent. Chairs scraped across the floor. Rusty had him pinned, one knee driving into his chest, hands clamped around his throat.
Tyler clawed at Rusty’s wrists, trying to pry them loose, but the angle worked against him and Rusty had all the leverage. Pressure pounded behind his eyes. His vision tunneled. Then the weight vanished. He sucked in a ragged breath and rolled onto his side, coughing.
Through watering eyes, he saw Brooke standing over Rusty, the broken wooden chair still in her hands. Rusty lay on the ground, clutching his shoulder, his face twisted with pain and surprise, splinters scattered around him.
“Stay down,” Brooke said, her voice shaking, holding the jagged chair above him.
Rusty looked at her, then at Tyler, then at the restaurant staff rushing toward them.
“She hit me,” Rusty said, like he couldn’t believe it.
Two servers reached them. A man who looked like a manager was already on his phone, probably calling the police.
“We’re leaving,” Brooke said. She dropped the broken chair and reached for Tyler’s hand. “Now.”
Tyler let her pull him to his feet. His ribs screamed, and his jaw throbbed where Rusty had connected. But he could stand.
They moved toward the exit, but the manager stepped in front of them.
“You need to wait for the police,” he said.
“That man attacked my boyfriend,” Brooke said. “We defended ourselves.”
“You broke a chair. You’re going to pay for it.”
“Fine. Send me a bill.” She fished a business card out of her pocket and thrust it at the man before pushing past him, Tyler following. They made it to the truck before anyone came after them.
Tyler’s hands shook as he pulled his keys from his pocket. Brooke took them from him.
“I’ll drive.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
She pulled out of the parking lot as sirens sounded in the distance, getting closer.
“They’re going to find us,” Tyler said. His voice was rough from Rusty choking him.
“Let them. He attacked you first. Everyone in that restaurant saw it.”
Tyler touched his jaw, wincing. It was already swelling. “You hit him with a chair.”
“I did.”
“You could’ve been hurt.”
