I snorted.

There were two kinds of stupid. Stupid people that got drunk and humped trees, and stupid people that just humped trees. The first one was Madoc. These guys were the latter.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I laughed. “Your car never stood a chance. Bring the right tires next time. This isn’t street racing.”

“Fuck you!” Ryland barked. He slammed me in the chest, and I lost my breath as I stumbled backwards.

Coming back up on him, I stared him down. “Get off my property.”

Just then, I could make out the rumble of Madoc’s GTO, and I immediately relaxed my shoulders a bit when he came into view, speeding down my street.

I didn’t even think he turned off the car before he was out and running.

Thank God.

I wasn’t afraid of these guys, by any means, but I wasn’t stupid, either. Two against one, and all I had in my hand was my helmet for a weapon.

A vicious slam nearly knocked me off my feet, and an ache rocked my head.

Shit. I’d been hit.

No. Sucker punched, actually.

Cowardly motherfuckers.

They both rushed me, throwing fists in my face, and a million goddamn things were going at once.

Arms flying at me…crowding me…I’m about to fall…

My head was still ringing from the hit, and it took me too fucking long to get straight.

I launched my body forward, shoving my shoulder into one of their stomachs and taking the fight to the ground.

Madoc must’ve gotten the other one, because I didn’t have anyone else coming at me from behind.

My jaw clamped shut and air rushed in and out of my nose as I grabbed the guy—Ryland—by the neck and whipped him onto his back.

Grunts filled the air, and the grass, slippery with dew, made it hard as I tried to climb over him. It was a chilly night, but the sweat glided down my forehead like it was the middle of August.

I threw punch after punch, my knuckles burning with the impact. He brought his hands up, wrapping one of his fists inside the other and hammering down into my stomach.

I lost my breath, and he took the short reprieve to draw a switchblade out of his jeans and sliced me across the bicep.

Goddammit!

I whipped my body back, leaning away.

The hot sting of the cut quickly spread, and my arm turned cold. I realized it was the blood hitting the night air, cooling my skin.

Date: 2015-02-16; view: 580