Logan Kade (Fallen Crest #5.5)(7)

“Get Logan,” someone yelled.

Another girl asked, “Where is Logan?”

I heard other people saying the same thing, but I focused on the girl.

She raised her chin, and a warning flashed in her eyes. “Touch me. I dare you.”

There were three of them, all tall and, not to be stereotypical, but they looked like preppy douchebags. Each was good looking, with bodies built like they rowed every morning for hours. They looked like money. It practically dripped from their clothes. Their jawlines were rigid enough to form glaciers.

Their eyes were icy, too, as they stared back at the girl. They weren’t backing down.

I broke from the crowd, planning to go stand next to her. But before I could move, the crowd broke in half. An actual opening formed, and Logan Kade strode forward.

My foot jerked back into its spot, stepping back as he brushed past me.

Kade stopped beside her, and the three guys turned their attention to him. They didn’t move or say anything, but the air shifted. It’d been dark and ominous before, and I still felt a battle brewing.

“Kade starts fights, and he finishes them.”

A low tingle went through me, warming me. I remembered what Jason said and the nerves/anger/excitement took on a whole other feeling. My mouth was almost watering. I wanted to see what would happen. I wanted to see this Logan Kade in action, and for some reason, I was thirsting to see this fight.

“Kade,” one of them grated out his name.

Kade glanced at the girl, and then settled back on the spokesman. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s a party. We were invited.”

“And that’s why you’re facing off with Sam?” He moved forward a step.

“We weren’t facing off...”

Samantha folded her arms over her chest. “Yeah, right. You were just walking past me? That’s why you wouldn’t let me get past you to the car. We just ‘happened’ to block each other and you didn’t hear me when I told you to move.”

A little laugh slipped from me.

Kade threw me a sideways look.

I should’ve clamped a hand over my mouth. I should’ve let them know I wasn’t involved, because really, I wasn’t. I didn’t know this girl. It wasn’t my place to say anything or join in, but I didn’t. A dark part of me had opened up, seeing that this girl might need help. I wanted something to happen. I was almost egging it on in my head and as Kade watched me, his eyes lingering, the dark part grew into something else. My body grew warm and my pulse started to pick up. It was like he knew what was going on in me, and I swallowed over a lump, because that wasn’t right. He couldn’t know. He didn’t even know me...

But I felt like he did. I felt like he knew exactly what was going on in me, and a flash of anger flared up in me. I turned away. He could see inside of me, and that was too much. I didn’t want that so I slipped back into the crowd. As I pulled further away, enough so I wasn’t on the front line, my insides were still charged up.

“Come on. Who invited them?” someone near me asked.

“Who are these guys?”

“Park’s lackeys,” another voice answered. “And they weren’t invited.”

More and more partygoers were talking. They were annoyed, and an excited buzz filled the atmosphere. People wanted a fight. They wanted to see some action.

The three douchebags scanned the crowd. Two stepped back. They seemed wary, but the third focused his attention on Kade. He moved closer, stepping so he was right in Kade’s face. His lip curled in derision, and his mouth moved, saying something I couldn’t hear.

Oh boy. I swallowed.

I recognized the look in Kade’s eyes. His anger wasn’t fading; it was increasing. And then it didn’t matter.

Kade’s hand flew and punched the guy right in the face. Douchebag One’s head flung backward, and he stumbled a few steps before recovering. His two friends shared a look, seeming unsure what to do, but Douchebag One made the decision for them. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, locked eyes on Kade, and charged.

The fight was on.

“No, no, no!” Jason shoved his way through the crowd. “Cops have been called,” he yelled. “Everyone scatter—”

Before he finished talking, sirens began to wail. They were faint, still in the distance, but he was right. They were coming.

Douchebag One reared back. He was going to hit Kade.

“Stop!” I yelled.

Kade heard me and turned to look. I pointed behind him. Before he turned around, he ducked, and Douchebag One’s arm went over his head. Kade caught it, twisted around, and rammed his elbow into the guy’s gut. He hit him with an uppercut, then bent over and tossed him over his back. The two other guys ran to their friend and pulled him away as they took off with the scattering crowd.

I watched, frowning. We weren’t in high school. We didn’t really need to worry, did we? But Jason grabbed my hand and yanked me after him.

“Come on,” he said. “There’s illegal shit here. We don’t want to get caught. Trust me.”

I was still revved up. I didn’t know what from: from Kade or from the fight, but Jason took off and I followed right behind. As we zipped past a car, Kade was right there. He was heading to a different vehicle and for a moment, our paths crossed.