Page 96 of Palm South University: Season 2

“Hey, whoa, Bear. I’m just kidding. We’re just having a little fun, right guys?” He looks around for help, eyes wide, but everyone just clears out. I don’t even have to say a word. He knows. They all do.

“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve showing your face here,” I snarl, snatching him by the collar of his Omega Chi shirt. “And these letters? You don’teverget to fucking wear them. Ever.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” He’s shaking. It only fuels me more. My entire body comes to life as adrenaline soars through my veins. I need a release, and Alex’s face seems like the perfect way to get it.

“It’s a little too late for that.” I hear the bartender from before holler something out to his manager just as I throw the first punch, my fist connecting with Alex’s jaw with a sickening crack. I throw another into his stomach before shoving him to the ground and pinning his arms down. Each punch is for someone new—Ashlei, Bo, Skyler, Erin, Omega Chi. My knuckles sting as they split open from the force, but I welcome the pain.

“Jesus Christ, Bear, that’s enough!” I’m finally tugged back, but my hand around Alex’s shirt collar rips it with me. I expect to find my brothers behind me, but it’s Adam and Jeremy, instead. I use the shirt to wipe the blood from my hands, chest, and face before tossing it over my shoulder.

“If you show your face again,” I start to threaten, but Alex is unconscious. I don’t even know when I knocked him out. Bouncers grab my arms but I shake them loose and walk myself out, Adam and Jeremy on my heels. No one in the bar says a word, the crowd parting like the red sea with every step I take.

When I’m outside, the rain still dripping from the trees as the clouds clear, Adam approaches me hesitantly. “Hey, you okay?”

Shawna may have been the reason I walked into this bar, but with every punch I threw, I felt her leave my system. It’s the end of the semester, the promise of summer so close I can taste it. Alex deserved to have his ass kicked, and the fact that he served as the perfect release for me was only a bonus. I may get knocked down, I may walk through hell, but no one can ever say I don’t handle my own. I’m Clinton Fucking Pennington, and though Shawna is the one with the phoenix inked into her skin, it’s me rising from her ashes this time.

The left side of my mouth quirks up just marginally. “Never better.”