Page 31

Barrett was a lover, not a fighter.

Despite what people might like to believe about him, he’d never gotten into a fight before. He’d run away from plenty, and talked his way out of others, but never thrown a punch.

And he most certainly never threw the first one.

But right then, that Jake guy?

He was looking pretty punchable.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you to keep your hands to yourself?”

Jake, who had infuriatingly not taken his hateful eyes off of Nell, finally glanced at Barrett, scrutinizing him up and down. “Get out of my way, freak.”

“Aww.” Barrett sneered a sarcastic smirk. “That’s not very nice either. No can do, though. I was in the middle of a show, which you rudely interrupted. Do you mind getting the fuck out of here?”

“All that to stoop to this ?” Jake’s voice rose.

Barrett furrowed his brows in confusion, wondering what the hell that meant, until he realized Jake was speaking to Nell again.

Barrett swore he could feel her breath—a rapid, cool breeze—on the back of his damp shirt.

It was as distinct as the shaking in her arm where his hand held firmly around her wrist to keep her behind him.

He had no idea if she could see Jake’s face; he hoped not. There was a sick, twisted hatred there meant for her, and Barrett would have liked very much to block her from it.

“You all belong in hell.”

“Well, aren’t you original?” Barrett chuckled, wiping Jake’s stray spittle off his face as his voice lilted the way someone would compliment a child.

Nell must not have thought it as funny, though, because her hands shook harder.

He could stay here and rile up this bastard, or he could get her out of here and calm her down.

Only one of them had any importance in his eyes.

Barrett, with his hand still gently holding Nell, pulled her with him past Jake’s red glare and ignored the radiating rage that bounced off his body.

He chanced a glance behind him to Nell and found her pale-faced and glassy-eyed, staring at the stage like she couldn’t bear to look anywhere else. Which was probably true. All around them, people stared, waiting for something to happen. The bartender eyed them all cautiously.

Nell, thankfully, didn’t resist the tug he gave, and though her eyes stayed on the stage, her feet shuffled forward and away from this mess.

That is, until her other wrist was caught, and she was yanked backward and to the ground by Jake.

As Barrett said, he was a lover, not a fighter.

So it was a damn good thing that his friends knew a thing or two about bloodying their knuckles.

The tension in the building echoed into yelps from the groupies Barrett had forgotten about and the shriek of bar stools sliding on the ground as multiple people rose from their seats.

By the time they were standing, Dennis already had Jake backed against the bar and was pummeling him in the face.

A crowd of people descended on the scene—some of them Jake’s friends, trying to pull Dennis away with little luck. Some drunk men whooped and chanted, but Barrett barely paid attention to all that.

He was more focused on the fact that Nell had disappeared behind the legs of the crowd.

Barrett panicked, pushing through the crowd, scanning the ground for her recognizable hair or the denim jacket she’d been wearing, but there were too many boots and fists.

One of them caught Barrett in the side of the head, and he winced and lost his balance into a table, groaning as his eyes tightened against the pain.

The crowd was growing louder, tighter, and his window to Nell was closing. So, despite the incoming headache, he pushed up and shoved back into the ruckus.

A few more blows brushed his skin, but he ducked under the arms into a crouch and managed to catch sight of that messy hair covered by thin, pale arms.

Nell had her legs tucked into her chest for protection, with her face hidden from sight.

Barrett’s heart snapped.

She was so small, like a child hiding in the only way they knew how.

The image urged him forward, desperate to get to her before the monsters did.

Barrett dropped next to her and winced when a stray boot hit her side. She made no sound.

His hand landed on her shoulder, and he searched above them for a way out, but it seemed futile in the blood-hungry crowd.

So he did the only thing that came to mind.

He stayed in place.

Wrapping his arms around her, he covered her with his body and did all he could to take every blow and kick that passed them, oblivious to their presence on the ground.

With all the jolting and shifting, he couldn’t tell if she was still shaking, but he was able to make out a single, breathy voice through her shielding arms.

“Scott?”

“It’s me,” he said, pulling her tighter into him and wishing he was bigger and braver so he could protect her better. “I got you.”

Her head shifted under his chin until it was pressed against his chest, and her arms circled his waist.

It was ages until the crowd broke.

When they started to part, Barrett lifted his head to take in the drunken and beaten masses as the bar owner screamed for them to disperse.

Barrett searched for his friends and found them backing up with the others. Their faces were ragged, their hair tangled and mussed, and Toni grimaced as he wiped a stream of blood from his nose with his arm.

Jake was still conscious, but barely. His non-swollen eye blinked slowly, and he gripped the bar to keep from toppling over.

“I ain’t tolerating this sort of behavior in my establishment,” the owner, Neil, snapped. “All of you, get your raggedy asses out of here.”

Alarmed, Barrett moved to stand. With her arms around him, Nell had no choice but to follow. Once they were up, her arms fell away, but her eyes met his.

They were more focused than before, but the red rim around them contrasted the blue in the most hauntingly beautiful way.

“Can you walk?” he asked her gently.

She nodded and took a step to prove it. She appeared steadier on her feet than Jake did.

Together, Barrett and Nell walked to his friends, who all nodded at them, their eyes scanning Nell like they were checking her for injuries.

Toni caught Barrett’s eyes, and gave him a nod that said “I’ve got your back, man”.

Barrett never doubted that for a second.

The crowd had begrudgingly started to disperse, and although the band’s gig wasn’t even halfway through, Barrett figured it was best they all collected their stuff and called it a night.

He told them so, and they all started to go that way before their path was cut short by Neil. His face was red. The man was large and entirely terrifying when he wasn’t laughing and handing them an envelope filled with cash at the end of the night.

“You . . .” Neil’s finger went right to Dennis and Paulie. “I never want to see your faces here again.”

Barrett’s heart sank. When he looked at his friends, the twisted shock confirmed they felt it too.

“Come on, man—”

Neil cut Paulie off with a firm finger in his face. “You’re beating up my customers while I’m paying you, you little shits.” He shook his head like he was holding himself back from saying something much worse. “You’re fired. Grab your shit and get out.”

He spun before they could try to defend themselves, and the four band members and Nell just stood there, unsure what else to do or say.

* * *

“I’m sorry.”

Barrett closed his eyes at the sound of the familiar words.

His shoe scuffed on a pebble that made a tinny clunk as it hit Nell’s bike spokes.

She hadn’t let him push it as he walked her home, claiming he was too beat up.

They were already nearing her hill, and this was the first thing either of them had said.

His head ached, and his fingers rose to his temples and rubbed. “Stop that.”

“I am. It’s my fault.”

“Stop it.”

“I shouldn’t have—”

He spun on her, staring down at her. His hands itched to touch her.

Her hand or her face, or her lips maybe.

But he bit his tongue and kept it to himself.

He wasn’t sure if she was hurt anywhere.

What if he accidentally touched a bruise and made her wince?

His head throbbed at the thought, annoying him further.

“I never want to hear those words from your mouth again, you understand? I’m sick of them. I’m sick of you taking the blame for everything. You are not some horrible villain, okay? I swear, if I hear it again, I’m going to . . .”

To what? What could he do?

Nell was startled, her eyes wide and her lip pulled between her teeth. She too had stopped walking, her bike still between them.

Barrett knew what he wanted to do, but that probably wouldn’t be well received.

“I’m going to make you practice your chords over and over until you have calluses like mine, got it?”

Nell’s face was sallow, her eyes still red, but her lips rose in relief. “You always know the right thing to say.”

Never heard that one before, but he liked the sound of it.

“Can I say thank you?” she asked.

Barrett crossed his arms, feigning annoyance even though it had disappeared. “If you’d like to.”

She leaned her body forward over the bike, and Barrett barely had time to register her nearness before there was a soft peck on his cheek.

He wished he had expected it, so he could savor the millisecond before it was gone. “Oh, uh . . . Yeah, okay.”

“Thank you for helping me. I can go the rest of the way from here. Have a good night.”

Barrett stayed still until she disappeared over the top of the hill.

Only once he couldn’t see her anymore did he brush his fingers over his cheek.