Immediately, Dylan seemed to grow bigger. His shoulders straightened. “You can’t just push your way in here,” he said, his tone shifting from placating to anger.
“Isla, get your shit,” her dad barked. “Now.”
Isla stood frozen in place.
“Mr. Williams,” Dylan said again, trying to drag the man’s attention back to himself. “Step back. Isla can call you when—”
By the shift in the man’s expression, I knew instantly what was about to happen.
So did Isla’s mom. “Greg,” she called nervously, taking a step forward.
I’d been silent to that point, standing a little behind Dylan. It wasn’t really my place to interfere, and I had no idea what Curtis would want me to do, but I also hadn’t realized that the situation would deteriorate so fucking fast.
Inwardly cursing, I stepped to the side and shoved Dylan as Greg Williams swung. Dylan stumbled because he hadn’t been expecting it, which left me on the receiving end of the massive fist. Since I was shorter than the target he’d been aiming for, the punch skimmed the top of my head, but it was enough contact that I staggered backward. Luckily, I’d had my bell rung before, so I was able to stay on my feet, and I knew better than to let the guy swing again. I grabbed his arm and yanked him towardme, kneeing him in the balls as hard as I could. I let go quickly, swaying as he dropped like a log to the floor, letting out a high-pitched wheeze.
“What the fuck?” Curt’s voice thundered through the room.
I looked up as Dylan’s arm wrapped around my waist to find Curtis and Jesse shoving past Isla’s mom in the entryway.
“Isla’s parents are here,” I announced, like he couldn’t see that for himself. My head was throbbing with every beat of my heart as I blinked at him.
“Stay there,” he ordered Isla’s dad, pointing at the man who was still trying to catch his breath. He looked at me. “He make contact?”
I blinked again. “Forehead. Barely.”
“Fuck,” Curtis said, reaching for me.
“Mom?” Finn called from the top of the stairs.
“Stay there, Finn,” Jesse yelled back.
“What’s goin’ on?”
“Don’t move, bud,” they ordered. “Stay right there.”
“I’m fine,” I said as Curtis pulled me against him and lifted a hand to my hairline. “He only grazed me.”
“Ice,” Curtis barked at Dylan.
“It’s not that bad,” I assured him. I started to shake my head but realized very quickly that was a bad idea.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him,” Curtis mumbled, staring at my head.
“Is it bleeding?” I couldn’t feel any blood, but I was afraid to touch it.
“No, but it’s already swellin’.”
“Fuck. I’m going to look like a unicorn.”
Curtis’s lips twitched, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“We don’t have any ice, Dad,” Dylan said quietly.
“Isla,” her dad called from the floor.
“Shut the fuck up,” Curtis said, his head turning to glare at the man. “The fuck is wrong with you?”
“He wasn’t swinging at me,” I murmured quietly. “He was swinging at Dylan.”
