Page 152 of Toxic Kiss

That’s a standard convo in this situation, but then she straddles Cy’s lap. His eyes go wide with surprise as her arms wrap around his neck like a boa constrictor, and she slams her mouth to his.

He’s stiff and tries to pull back.

I see red. There is no follow-through thought when my phone drops to the floor, and my hands fist the back of her shirt and hair as I haul her off his lap. Mellanie lets out a scream while I drag her away.

“Get off of him,” I snarl.

“You bitch,” Mellanie yells as her nails slash across my face.

My fingers come back bloody when I touch my cheek, then I lose it completely.

I thought I understood rage. God knows I’ve been furious with Cy daily, but this is different. There is something feral ripping open inside of me as the room and crowd become a blur. All I see is her pretty face. Just another in the sea of onlookers, and yet I’ve just found my limit of what I can handle watching.

My fist connects with Mellanie’s jaw, and she stumbles back before falling to the floor. I follow, holding her down. I keep punching her as she tries to cover her face.

“You’re fucking crazy! Get off of me,” she wails.

I raise my fist to hit her again, when arms wrap around me and haul me off of Mellanie.

“Get her! Kick her ass,” someone yells.

“Don’t touch him again,” I roar, lunging against the arms holding me.

Struggling, I swear a litany of profanity that can make the devil blush as Mellanie pinches her nose.

“You’re crazy, I’m calling the cops on you,” she yells.

“Go for it!”

“Haven, stop,” Cy’s voice slowly breaks through the fog of rage clouding my mind.

My heart is pounding wildly in my chest as I blink and look around. It’s like an old western movie with everyone now involved in a fight. Fans, dancers, and servers are all in the melee, while the bouncers try to regain control. Kandy gives me a thumbs up and then jumps into the fray.

What the hell?

“We need to get out of here,” Cy says, as Brett and the club’s security hold back the group from rushing the band.

“My phone,” I say, pointing.

“I’ve got it,” Declan shouts and grabs it before a high heel can crush it.

Then we are all rushing for the exit. Outside isn’t much better. No one is fighting, but the bus with the band’s name splashed across the side has drawn a massive group of people. Cy keeps me tucked under his arm as we push our way to the bus.

The driver opens the door, and we race up the stairs. I move toward the back of the bus as the guys laugh and high-five one another like this is some big joke. The door closes, and the bus moves. This all feels like an out-of-body experience. I don’t even recognize the person that I was in there. My hand is still curled into a fist as my mind replays what just happened.

I’ve never been in a real fist fight before.

What the hell did I just do?

Cy looks at me with a wide smile on his face.

“That was incredible!”

He walks toward me, but I glare at him.

“Don’t! I’m done.” His smile falls. “I’m calling my father and moving to a different position.”

One at a time, the guys stop laughing and focus on me.