Page 32 of The Publicity Stunt

“This is ridiculous. April come on—”

I don’t even hesitate. One second he’s trying to walk toward April, and the next second my fists are bunched up at his collar, pinning him against the wall.

“Parker!” April yells.

“If she asks you to take out your fucking phone,” I grit out, “then that’s what you do.”

With one hand shoving him harder against the wall, I reach for his hand and pry the phone out of his hand myself.

He manages to choke out my name in protest and a few of his friends try pulling me off of him.

Holly comes over to stand next to April. I bring the phone up to my eyes and that’s when it happens. My breathing gets choppy and a pang of anger like no other sears through my body. This fucking asshole. He hasn’t even bothered to exit the Photos app, much less lock his phone.

“Parker, what is—”

I hand her the phone and look back at Tyler, grinding my teeth. “You fucking asshole. Be grateful she’s here right now. It’s the only thing holding me back from breaking every single bone in your fucking body.”

“Parker, stop it!” April says again.

I shove Tyler harder and he pushes back.

“Get off him.” This time Holly chimes in, her voice layered with frost.

I peer over my shoulder. “What?”

Her icy gaze is fixated on Tyler and she repeats, enunciating each word in an equally cold manner, “Get. Off. Him.”

Reluctantly, I take a step back, shoving Tyler against the wall one last time before letting him go. He coughs a couple of expletives my way and rubs his throat.

“Holly, what—”

Before I can finish my sentence, Holly marches over and promptly knees Tyler in his crotch.

The fucker falls to the floor.

“What the fuck! You bitch—”

“Ooh, bad choice of words,” she says and knees him again. This time it’s harder and he writhes in pain.

I fight back a smirk. Holly and I might not get along, but if there’s one thing that brings us on the same page, it’s April. Hurt her in any way or manner, and we both see red.

April shoves his phone onto the table and walks to my side. “I want to leave. Can we please leave?” Her voice shakes and her eyes are filled to the brim with tears. I gently place my hand on her back and she flinches at the touch. Oh, hell, no. Tyler Hockman is a dead man.

“Let’s get out of here,” I say, getting an immediate weak nod from her. She doesn’t look up again. Not once.

Holly, April, and I start walking in the opposite direction, but are still within earshot when I hear Tyler scoff and say, “The slut wasn’t even that great.”

That does it.

I don’t waste a single second. Nor do I check on April to see if she heard him.

Because it doesn’t matter. None of it fucking does. It takes all of two seconds for my fist to meet his face.

“What the fuck!” he yells, instantly falling to the ground, his lip split open.

I shake my hand in pain. Goddammit, this shit looks so easy in movies. He looks at up me, gripping his jaw. “Get the fuck out—”

I take his phone and smash it to the ground, kicking it so hard that it visibly and audibly breaks into pieces. “Gladly, you son of a bitch.”