Page 46

“You fucker , ” Rick hissed, and lunged for Nate. Instead of defending himself, Nate sidestepped the attack, making Rick stumble and almost fall again.

In growing horror, I realized they were going to start slugging it out right here on the street. The sidewalks were mostly deserted, but this couldn’t continue.

“Stop it, both of you,” I said, trying to put myself between them.

“Stay back, Cam,” Nate said calmly. “Can’t trust what this crazy asshole might do.”

Rick’s eyes bulged. “This is what I was talking about. You poisoned her against me!” He swung a fist at Nate’s face, but Nate pulled his head back seconds before it could make contact.

“The only poison is you,” Nate said, lip curling in disgust.

“Enough of this shit,” Rick muttered as he slipped his hand into his pocket. In a flash, he pulled out a pocket knife. Flicking his wrist, a four-inch blade snapped out.

This was going too far. I had to stop them.

Before Nate or Rick could react, I grabbed Rick’s wrist, twisting it behind his back and stomping on his instep.

Rick twisted, trying to free himself. “Goddammit, Cameron. Let me go.”

I moved with him, never loosening my grip. He cursed and tried to backhand me, but I used my right elbow to block it. By protecting my face, I lost my grip on his arm, and his wrist slipped from my grasp. In the scuffle, the knife slipped from his grip, and I saw my chance.

Bringing my hand down, I grabbed the handle and tugged. Rick tried to regain control of the weapon and yanked his hand back. I held fast, but our arms and hands were tangled so close that the blade tore a thin groove down my forearm.

“Shit,” I hissed, backing away from Rick, knife in one hand, the other pressed to the wound.

Nate’s eyes widened at the sight of the blood oozing from under my fingers. He roared, and I flinched away in fear. He lunged at Rick, and the two men crashed into a parked car. They grappled and clawed at each other’s throats, becoming a blur of fists and growling curses.

I tossed the knife down a storm drain, then rushed to the two of them, unsure how to break them up.

“Rick! Nate! Stop!”

If they heard me, they didn’t register anything.

If anything, the sound of my voice seemed to spur them to fight even harder.

Nate gripped Rick’s shirt collar, two buttons already torn away, and he was trying to punch Rick’s face.

Rick was blocking the blows with his arm, so the punches landed on the side of his head.

His earlobe was split, and blood dripped down onto his white shirt.

An instant later, he shifted, becoming a whirling mass of claws and teeth.

Nate danced back right before Rick’s teeth could clamp down on his crotch.

Nate shifted as well and dived at Rick, sending them both crashing into the parked car.

Nate bit down hard on Rick’s shoulder. A yelp of pain rang out loud on the early morning street.

In a panic, I glanced around, but found no one within sight. A few hundred yards away, a few joggers were stretching, getting ready for a run. They’d turned to look toward the sound, but the car blocked Rick and Nate from view.

Cursing, I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed 911. I didn’t want either of them to die, and I didn’t know what else to do. Through the sounds of wolfish growling and grunts, I barely heard the operator who answered.

“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”

“Uh, there’s a fight going on. Two men fighting near the jogging trail of Northwood Park. Right outside the Gracemore apartment building.”

“Understood, ma’am. Are there any weapons involved?”

I decided to omit the knife since it was of no use to anyone now. “No, they’re, uh, just beating the shit out of each other.”

“I’ll have a unit on the way now.”

I hung up right as Rick shifted back and scrambled to his feet. He pulled his leg back to kick Nate in the head. I was close enough that I managed to throw a kick of my own, sending Rick off balance.

Nate, moving forward and flowing like water, ducked beneath Rick’s guard and leaped up, headbutting Rick in his face, right below his right eye. Hissing in pain, Rick drove an elbow toward Nate’s muzzle, but I deflected it. His elbow slid across my forearm and left a smear of blood from my cut.

“Get back, Cameron,” Rick growled. I’d never heard him like that. He was more an animal thirsting for blood than a man.

Nate shifted back and attempted a chop to Rick’s neck, but he ducked, spun, and kicked his heel into Nate’s side.

Nate let out a huff of breath and winced, but he rose and kicked Rick’s inner thigh.

Rick stumbled backward, and just because I was so pissed at him, I punched him on the chin, sending his head snapping back.

Rick’s eyes went wide in shock and pain, but he managed to keep from falling.

Instead, he stumbled and regained his footing.

In the distance, I heard the sound of a siren. Rick turned toward the sound, then back at us.

I’d hit him. The thought burned in my mind, searing my brain like a branding iron.

There was no coming back from that, not that I wanted there to be.

We were done. But hitting someone, bashing their face with your fist, was a very intimate thing.

Violence, the other side of the coin from compassion, was as relationship-altering as sex.

In some ways, it was more intimate than sex.

Rick opened his mouth as if to say something, but seemed to think better of it. With a quick glance in the direction of the sirens, he spun on his heel and ran. His dress shoes clicked on the sidewalk as he sprinted away.

The way he’d glared at both of us told me one thing. This was far from over.

Nate’s grunt drew my attention, and I turned to him. He was on one knee, holding his ribs and breathing heavily.

“Fucker can kick hard,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Shit, are you okay?”

He waved me away, then stood. Gently, he took my hand and inspected my arm. The cut was long, but not very deep. I probably wouldn’t even need stitches.

“Are you okay?” He looked from the cut to my face. “Cameron, are you all right?”

I nodded. Before I could tell him I was fine, I burst into tears. The stress and chaos of the last two days were more than I could handle at that moment.

“No,” I blubbered. “I’m not.”

As the police sirens drew nearer, Nate pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me. All I could do was bury my face in his chest and sob. Crying for everything lost and how stupid I’d been for so long.

Even as I cried, I promised myself I’d never let it happen again.