Jared twitched and shrugged me off, fisting his hands as he cocked his head in clear provocation.
We’d collected attention. A frantic murmur of voices and eyes descended upon the scene, a rustle of morbid interest as people began to draw near.
Panic prodded at my chest and twisted my stomach. We had to get out of here.
I edged in between Christopher and Jared, remaining just behind, determined to assuage the malice that had filled the air. This time I spoke a little louder and pulled at the back of Christopher’s shirt. “Jared… Christopher… come on, let’s just go. Please.”
The guy’s face contorted into a mocking sneer, taunting them. He looked directly at Jared. “Why don’t you tell your whore to shut her fucking mouth?”
Hearing those words, Jared snapped. He moved faster than I’d ever seen anyone move, rushing the guy with his arm cocked back. I watched in horror as Jared’s fist brutally slammed into the guy’s face. The punch connected with a sickening thud that reverberated in my ears. Blood spurted, gushing from the man’s nose as it ran profusely down his face and dripped from his chin.
At the sight of blood, Jared seemed to lose it completely. He roared, descended on the guy in a fury of pent-up madness. Fists flew in a constant barrage as Jared’s attack drew more blood. Each hit landed more savagely than the last. The guy tried to fight back, but Jared was too agile and dodged every returned blow.
Finally finding his feet, the guy swung his cue stick with a thundering cry. It whipped through the air as he angled it for Jared’s head.
Jared ducked. In the same motion, he ripped the stick from the other man. Grabbing it in both his hands, he held the weapon horizontal as he charged. Jared’s teeth were bared, clenched, and he rammed into the guy’s chest. He bent him backward over the pool table, the stick holding him down by the chest. The guy thrashed, pinned to the green felt with his legs flailing as he fought to find leverage on the ground.
Jared leaned in close and growled in his face, the words hoarse as they ripped from his throat. “What the fuck did you say? Say it again, fucker. I dare you, say it again.” Pulling back a fraction, Jared slammed him down again. “Say it again.”
The crowd swarmed, vying to get a better view.
“Fuck you,” the guy all but moaned. Jared had stripped him of any other form of defense, so the guy spat in his face.
Incensed, Jared roared and raised the cue above his head.
I realized I was screaming, screaming Jared’s name. “Jared, stop! Oh my God, please stop!”
Seemingly prompted by the fear in my voice, Christopher reacted. From behind, he yanked the stick from Jared’s hands. Jared whirled around, flinging his fist, his blue eyes wild as he readied for another attacker.
Christopher was quick enough to jump back, and the aimless punch connected with air. “Jared, come on, man, look at me.” Christopher came in close to Jared’s face, his hands on his shoulders. Jared struggled to break free. “Come on, Jared, snap the fuck out of it. This asshole isn’t worth it, and I guarantee the cops are on their way. We have to get Aly out of here.”
Bouncers were making their way through the leering crowd just as those wild blue eyes darted to me. Pain crumpled his face, and he raised his bloodied fists in some kind of tortured surrender.
Christopher jumped into action and jerked me by the hand. “Come on. We have to get out of here.” Shoving through the throng, Christopher headed toward the back. The crowd seemed to open and swallow us whole. People pressed into us, holding us back, then surging us forward. I grasped at Jared’s hand, holding tight as Christopher expertly forged our escape.
We stumbled out the back door. More people were cluttered in groups as they gathered to smoke, standing in the thick night air that was heavy with the growing storm. Thunder rumbled overhead, flashes of lightning illuminating the blackened sky. Wind gusted hard, whipping up dirt and debris as it blew in low. Cringing, I looked to the ominous sky.
“Come on, this way,” Christopher commanded. He pointed to the right, then tightened his hold on my hand as he took off at a jog into the darkness that ran behind a strip mall that had long since been closed down for the night.
My hold tightened on Jared’s hand as I dragged him behind me. I refused to let him go.
Christopher wound us back around the long way. The approaching storm pressed in from above. Energy crackled through the clouds and sped along the ground. Lightning flashed, and I stole a furtive glance over my shoulder at Jared. He kept his face hidden as he trained his eyes on his feet, his hand almost limp where it burned against mine.
I wanted to stop, to take his face in my hands, to beg him to tell me he was okay. Instead I struggled to keep up with Christopher, who raced ahead. Desperate, I squeezed Jared’s hand as I tugged him harder, hoping he would at least understand my worry. His touch remained unresponsive.
We slowed our pace as we rounded the corner and slinked around to the front of the buildings. “Just play it cool, Aly,” Christopher warned.
We hit the sidewalk, the dull streetlamps lighting our way as they blinked through the haze of the storm. Jared removed his hand from mine and dropped back two feet, and I walked hand in hand with Christopher, nestled up against his side with my head held low, as we approached the bar parking lot.
We’d come full circle.
Three cop cars sat in the middle of the lot. Red and blue lights flashed. No one even noticed us as we drew near. All attention seemed focused on the mayhem that was undoubtedly still taking place inside.
Silently, we slipped up to my car that sat in near darkness, dim lamps from the front of the bar casting shadows across the lot. I clicked the door locks on my fob, and we slid into our seats, Christopher in the front and Jared directly behind me in the back.
We said nothing, just let the tension stretch between us as I fumbled with the keys to start the ignition. Finally I found the slot and turned over the engine. Shaking, I backed out, put the car in gear, and slowly eased out onto the street.
In silence we waited for something… for someone to follow… for some consequence to come. Warily, I glanced up in the rearview mirror to the empty street behind us. No one followed. My eyes wandered to find Jared’s head hung how, his face buried in his bloodied hands.
Christopher turned fully in his seat and searched the distance. Then he cracked up. “Holy shit, man.” His smile was wide and sloppy when he looked at Jared, his buzz making a resurgence as he slapped Jared on the knee. “That was fucking awesome. You beat the shit out of that asshole. The second he said something about Aly, I knew you were going to lose it.” He laughed as he rushed a hand through his disheveled hair. “You were always that way… sticking up for her. Shit… I bet you’d kick my ass if I said something bad about her.”
He slanted a grin at me, then turned it on Jared. “You’re like some kind of avenging angel, or some shit. Who knows what would have happened if you didn’t step in tonight? Either my ass would have ended up in jail or I’d be the one in that asshole’s place. Dude was huge.” He laughed, glib, making light of whatever had occurred back at the bar. Christopher was oblivious of Jared’s misery, to the restlessness that twitched through his muscles, to the anxiety silencing his tongue.
Christopher turned up the radio and sang along to some terrible pop song, his voice raised and completely out of key. Leave it to my brother to completely miss what was really going on.
I turned at the gate to our complex. Again I lifted my face to search Jared’s in the mirror. I could feel it, him warring with whatever he’d been stricken by as he sat silently in my backseat. Punishing himself for his actions.
The protecting, I understood. One hundred percent. I would never criticize him for that. And maybe it was just the two of us who recognized it; the two of us that had felt his seething burn, the loss of control.