“You really were dating him.”

I can’t tell if her surprise is because I chose Max, or he chose me, but it makes me feel self-conscious and furthers my defensiveness, though I refuse to confirm her words because there’s no chance in hell I’m going to explain to her what happened.

“I thought everyone was lying when they said you guys were dating because I saw you hanging around town for a couple of weeks and never saw him,” she repeats her earlier accusation that I continue to avoid answering with a blank stare.

“You moved across the country because Max Miller dumped you?”

I’ve always considered Amy a friend, not a best friend, but someone that would stick up for me if she heard a nasty rumor or willing to help if I ever called on her, just as I would for her. Staring into her dull green eyes, I feel nothing but loathing for her, burning through me like hot grease, erasing every friendly interaction we’ve ever shared.

I don’t respond to her or push her away like I’m tempted to. I do what I always do. I leave. Disappearing through the throngs of arms and gyrating bodies makes it easy for me to separate myself from her and everyone else, almost too easy.

The night air brings a welcomed chill to my skin that that is too hot from the heat and the anger pulsing through me. I’m consumed with resentment as I make my way down the sidewalk, in need of some sort of distance, some sort of barrier between the thoughts she’s invoked that threaten to overcome me.

“Ace!”

My heart rate and steps quicken at the voice that’s too familiar to not penetrate my cloud of thoughts, increasing my need to get out of here.

A large hand wraps around my own, tugging me to a stop. A deep breath escapes me as I turn my face to catch Nathan Hudson looking at me with excitement that quickly dims when he sees my expression.

His eyebrows furrow and his grip loosens slightly on my hand. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” I growl, pulling my hand from his grip and turning on a red leather heel.

“Where are you going?”His words follow me as I stalk a few paces with Kendall’s borrowed heels echoing on the sidewalk.

My ears ring from being in loud clubs all night, and voices in my head are screaming at a disturbing level, but I still hear the jeers that are directed toward me as I pass by a bar littered with men that are smoking, leaning against the brick exterior.

As a particularly vulgar comment is slung my way, an arm wraps around my shoulders and pulls me against a hard frame. It’s Nate, of course. The last thing I want to do right now is walk down the street arm in arm with Nate, but I know that with the combination of the alcohol I’ve consumed and the rampant thoughts that have most of my senses and mind distracted, I’m an easy target. I swallow my fury and continue to walk, pressed up against his side.

“What are you doing out here by yourself? Where are you going?” he rasps as we step onto the curb of the next sidewalk.

I shrug him off and take a step to the left to create more space as we continue up another block as a response.

“I didn’t know you were back?”

I know he’s looking for me to confirm one way or the other, but I don’t. I can’t seem to focus enough energy or attention to have a conversation that won’t uncover one or several of the things I’m working to suppress.

“Come on, my truck’s this way.”

“I’m not getting in a car with you.”

“Ace, what are you going to do? Walk? Where are you even going?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Nate grabs my arm and I slap it away as I forcefully shout for him not to touch me. His hands fly up in surrender, looking shocked at my outburst. “You’ll never touch me again!”

“Ace…” He grabs my arm again, using just enough force to stop me, but not enough to be painful. “I never, never touched you.” He shakes his head several times. “I don’t know what you or Rodriguez think happened that night, but it wasn’t whatever in the hell you think it was.”

His words repeat in my head as I try to focus on them and clear enough space to decipher what he’s saying. Shaking my head, I tell him, “That makes no sense.”

“You think I tried to hurt you? That I was helping those fucking goons? I thought Jessica Finley saw enough to know what happened.”

“She did, and then she went and got Pedro!”

“You think Rodriguez could have taken on all four guys by himself? He was wasted and just started swinging the second he walked in. He fucking hit the wall at one point because he had no balance! I wasn’t trying to hurt you! I was trying to protect you!”

Every muscle in me goes slack as I see the sincerity and intensity pouring from his brown eyes.

“I would never force a girl! Never!” His voice rises with an anger that I can somehow understand and even validate. “How in the hell you guys all thought that, and never said a fucking word to me, blows my fucking mind. I kept waiting for you to ask me about what happened, sure that you would press charges on those sick sons of bitches, but you never came. The first time I approached you about it, you ran away, looking scared as shit, and I thought it was because you were embarrassed or afraid of me because I broke Collin’s arm.”

“I didn’t even know you did that,” I admit in a whisper.

“Why in the hell didn’t you confront me, then?”

“It was easier to just—”

“Ace!”

Nate and I both turn to see Kendall rushing toward us, her heels clipping as her hair fans behind her. Her face is contorted with rage that requires a delayed moment for me to realize is directed toward Nate, rather than me for leaving.

I quickly move in front of him, pressing my back against his front and raising both of my hands to her.

“Move!” she screams, gripping my right wrist in her left hand as she seethes at Nate.

“Kendall, no!” I cry. “Pedro and I were wrong! Ow!” I cry, pulling my hand free from hers and clutching my right bicep where her tightly clenched fist just hit me. “What in the hell are you doing?”

“Move!”

“Kendall, he didn’t do anything! Calm down!” My arm throbs with a surprising amount of pain from the impact that makes me want to look at my arm to see the damage, but her face is still fully masked in anger, as though my words are falling on deaf ears.

“STOP!” I yell, reaching forward and grabbing both of her wrists in my hands. “Stop,” I repeat when her blue eyes reluctantly meet mine. “He never did anything to me.”

“He was trying to!” She struggles against me, and it takes everything in me to hold her back.

“He protected me!” I cry, tightening my grip on her arms. “He helped me.”

Kendall has a similar reaction to my own as her eyes grow wide and her muscles fall lax under my grip.

“He protected you?” she repeats.

I nod, releasing my hold on her.

“I punched him,” she says, looking slightly shocked.

“Actually, you punched me, Rocky.” My voice is too tight to convey the joke that I’m intending, but it doesn’t seem to matter because Kendall’s shaking her head.

“I punched him,” she repeats.

“It’s okay,” Nate supplies from behind me. “If I’d have thought that, I would have punched me too.”

“I still hate you. Don’t try to be a nice guy now,” Kendall bites. “I hate you less for helping my sister, but you’re still a complete asshole.

Nate’s lips purse, and his jaw clenches, but he doesn’t try to object.

“Come on,” Kendall says, linking her arm with mine.

We take a few steps forward before I pull her to a stop and turn to face Nate again. “Thank you for stopping them from…” My words trail off because although I’ve started to face what might have occurred that night had Pedro, and now Nate, not intervened, I’m not yet ready to vocalize it. “I’ll make sure Pedro knows the truth.”

“And Miller. I’m done being on his damn hit list.”