“Stop! Let me go.” I try to sound tougher and braver than I feel. I push against his shoulders again and he barely budges. His eyes slowly look down stopping at my chest; my body is pressed too close to his to see any further. I watch his mouth curl, but it looks like a sneer, making my stomach turn violently.
I suddenly hate my dress and the fact that it accentuates my body. As I struggle against him, my mind races to recall self-defense moves.
Strong hands suddenly grip the top of my arms and pull me backwards with an aggressive tug that has me stumbling to catch my balance. My eyes widen in shock as I see Max hurling himself at my assailant. Even over the raucous noise around us, I clearly hear the sickening pop as Max’s fist connects with the guy’s jaw and knocks him to the ground.
He stands up much quicker than I expect. Watching that hit and hearing the sound it made, I was afraid Max had seriously injured him. Before I can finish processing what’s about to happen, he lunges at Max, shockingly fast for a guy his size, and two others follow suit, grabbing for Max’s arms.
“Max!” I scream in horror as one of them works to restrain his right arm.
The hands that hold me fall, and Jameson charges toward them, landing a punch on one of the guy’s back, near his kidney. My eyes divert back to Max as another swings and connects his fist with Max’s stomach. I feel myself slouch as if I was the one hit. Max doesn’t seem to flinch as he drives his fist into the guy’s stomach in return.
I’m frozen, unsure of what to do. Growing up with four sisters, fist fighting is still quite foreign to me. If I’m ever at a party where a fight breaks out, I take that as my cue to leave.
One of the guys grabs Max’s arm again and pins it to his back. The stranger struggles to maintain his grip and reaches for his other arm. I watch as Max tries to shove him off, spewing curse words and threats before hitting him in the face with the back of his head. Amazingly, the guy doesn’t release his grip, even as his nose bleeds. The guy that had initially grabbed me, stalks over to Max, and the stranger behind him pulls tighter on his arms. I know from watching too many fight scenes in movies what’s going to happen next.
I don’t hesitate. I launch myself forward, creating a barrier between him and Max. Adrenaline courses through me as I try to focus on Caulder’s voice, calm and clear in my head. “Just knee them in the balls. They’ll drop to their knees, and then run.”
“Ace!” Max yells from behind me. “Get the hell away from here!”
But I can’t. My shoes feel like they’re cemented to the ground. Not from fear, but from the unexplainable need to protect him. The guy in front of me rotates his upper body, and I square my shoulders, reaching out to grip his, as Pedro flies in front of me tackling him to the ground. Within seconds he’s straddling the guy and waling on his face.
I whip my head around to ensure that Max is fine; he looks possessed. Landon appears next, and I see him punch the guy that has been holding Max’s arms. Blood now pours from both his nose and his mouth. My eyes don’t know where to focus as punches and threats are exchanged.
“Get her out of here!” Max yells, shoving me toward Landon. Landon nods and grabs my waist, lifting me over his shoulder before I can object. He carries me a few feet back before depositing me on my feet.
“Landon, someone’s going to get hurt!” I yell, trying to shove my way around him.
“What in the hell?” Kendall shrieks. I turn as she grabs my face with both hands and looks me up and down, but I repeatedly tell her that I’m fine.
“What happened?” she asks, her eyes following mine, though I’m sure hers find Jameson as mine lock on Max. I watch as his fist repeatedly connects with the guy that originally grabbed me. The guy’s face is bleeding and already starting to swell, yet Max isn’t slowing down.
“Landon does someone need to stop him?” Abby asks.
“Let’s go. Cops are probably going to show up,” Landon says, grabbing one of Jameson’s arms. Jameson straightens himself out, and they both walk to Max. Each of them grab an arm and pull him back. Pedro gives a final blow to a guy, and then he too goes to help them pull Max away, but it’s like he’s on autopilot.
“Max!” I yell, stepping closer now that no one is there to restrain me. “You’re going to kill him, stop!” I yell as he lands another punch on the guy’s face. I grab his arm that Jameson already works to restrain and can feel the tension in his entire body.
His eyes snap to mine; they’re cold, dark pools I don’t recognize, and I shake my head. “Stop. Please stop.” Unexpected tears burn in the back of my eyes as his begin to register recognition. He drops the hold that he has on the guy’s shirt. My hand falls from his arm as I turn to make my way to the front door. I need to get out of here.
“Ace!” Max’s voice calls out, and I feel the unfamiliar urge to stop and wait for him. Logically I know he just saved me—from what I’m not sure. I won’t allow my mind to go down that dark rabbit hole, but I know he protected me. The whole situation is just too overwhelming to process right now.
I hear the others calling to both Max and me as I weave through the crowd, focused on the front door. As I get halfway through the living room an unfamiliar guy wraps his arm around my waist and begins dancing against my side, pressing his pelvis into my hip and delivering a friendly smile. I push away and shoot him an icy glare. He backs away, apologizing.
The interaction slows me down enough so Max catches up with me, and I feel his hand on my lower back, following me through the remainder of the house.
I take a few gulps of the evening air. It’s cool against my sweat-dampened skin. Max’s hand grips my elbow and directs me forward as a few people pass to join the party.
He guides me over to a bench sitting under a large tree, and my body falls against the wooden planks. My head tilts back so I can take in the large expanse of the dark sky as I hastily pull my hair from my sweaty neck and shoulders into a knot.
“Ace, I know you’re pissed—”
“I’m not pissed, Max! I’m freaking overwhelmed and a little freaked out at the moment!” I didn’t intend to yell and feel a bit surprised when my voice comes out so loud. “What in the hell was that? You went nuts!” I run a hand over my face in exhaustion. “Are you okay?” I ask, focusing my eyes on his abdomen as the visions of Max being hit flash through my mind.
“I’m fine,” Max says automatically, shaking his head. His voice rises to match mine. “Ace that guy was going to …” He stops, his eyes squeeze shut, and his head shakes as he throws both of his hands in the air. Sighing, he looks down at his shirt. It’s covered in blood spatters. He peels it off in one fell swoop and uses the inside to wipe his face and arms.
“Ace, that guy and his friends were going to hurt you.” His voice is quieter as I turn away from him. “Fuck.” His chest heaves with a deep breath as he sits beside me and props his elbows on his knees, keeping his eyes focused on the yard as though he’s expecting someone to come.
“You always want to think everyone is nice and good, and it’s great to be all Anne Frank about humanity, but you have to have a little bit of self-preservation and realize that there are some seriously fucked-up people. It took Jameson and me forever to get to you. Then when his friends jumped me and I realized it was a team operation, I knew shit could’ve gotten really bad. People attack in teams like that for fucked-up reasons.” His eyes dance across my face watching his words resonate with me.
“You scared the shit out of me, Ace. I couldn’t figure out why you weren’t punching him! I know Caulder taught you girls that shit!” Max stands up again and throws his shirt in a bush. “And what in the hell were you thinking getting in the middle of things? Are you crazy?” His voice rises as he glares at me.