Path of Destruction (Broken Heartland, #2)(53)

He paused before throwing a punch, fearing he might seriously injure Devon, and backed up just in time to see Jarrod with his arms around Ella Jane. The reprieve allowed Devon to land a solid hit to Hayden’s jaw, and he staggered backward.

He used the momentum to ram and elbow into Jarrod’s ribs, connecting before he even contemplated the consequences.

She’s standing too close. The thought came a split second too late.

Ducking Jarrod’s return punch, Hayden positioned himself between them to keep the brawl from reaching her.

His vision blurred as he called out for Ella Jane to not f*cking leave with Jarrod, in those words. Devon was the obvious creep, but Jarrod was the snake in the grass that lured the girls into their trap. Dropping to avoid another wild fist of Devon’s, Hayden barreled into him at waist level, slamming him into the car hard enough to set the alarm off. Out of the corner of his eye, barely on the periphery, Hayden saw a welcome sight. Brantley Cooper hitting Jarrod so hard the guy hit the ground.

Someone yelled out that security was coming their way. Hayden didn’t seen any uniforms approaching, but it distracted him enough for Devon to get another punch in, his forehead this time. What kind of * punched a guy in the forehead?

Adrenaline took over and Hayden full on tackled Devon, throwing punches until someone pulled him off.

“Breathe, Prescott. You got him, man. Stop. You got him.” Brantley Cooper was holding his arms behind his back and dragging him from the crowd. “Nothing to see here, folks. Carry on,” Cooper yelled to the crowd. Someone helped Jarrod up as they passed by.

“Get off me,” Hayden seethed, jerking his arms from Coop’s hold. “I’m fine.”

“Easy there, pretty boy.” Coop backed up. “I just saved your ass.”

“Whatever,” he fired back despite knowing that Coop had in fact done just that. It’s no telling what would have happened if Jarrod’s dipshit friends had jumped in while Hayden was alone. He let out a sigh. “You better go,” he said with a nod toward where Ella Jane stood dumbstruck. “Get her out of here before the chaperones come out and start taking names.”

“Yeah,” Coop agreed. “But here.” He opened up his truck door and pulled a T-shirt from inside before tossing it to Hayden. “For the blood.”

Hayden swiped the shirt over his brow. There was a lot of blood.

“I’ll be fine. Now, get her out of here before they come out—”

The rumble of an engine broke and the squeal of rubber broke his train of thought. Hayden and Coop watched the black truck roar out of the parking lot with Ella Jane inside.

“Shit,” Coop snarled as he jumped into his own truck.

As much as Hayden wanted to follow after them, he could barely see to walk, let alone drive, which only infuriated him more. He should have been the one chasing after her. Or better yet, the one driving her home. The same old situations kept playing out. Hayden was always left watching as Coop swept into save her.

He leaned forward and placed his hands on his knees, trying not to vomit as the ground wavered beneath him.

“Come on, Rocky,” a familiar voice called out.

He lifted his head to see Cami walking toward him—two Camis, actually. Both of them were decked out in a killer red dress and sadness. Once she was close enough that there was only one of her, her eyes flashed not only concern but with resigned disappointment.

“Let me drive you home.”



“Hold still,” Cami instructed as she applied the butterfly strips to his brow.

He was sitting up on the counter in his family kitchen. Luckily, his parents were out for the evening and the home nurse had already made her rounds and gotten his grandma tucked in bed. Cami nudged his bouncing leg with her hip trying to get him to pay attention, but his mind was running on overdrive at the moment.

“You keep moving around and I’m never going to be able to get this thing closed up. I told you it needed stitches.”

And she had. She’d even tried to take him to the emergency room, but he’d refused. He probably had a concussion, but he wasn’t in the mood to answer any questions about how he’d ended up with the gash. He took in a deep breath and tried to stop himself from moving. It wasn’t just the pain that was making him antsy. He was still pissed off at how the entire evening had played out. Pissed off that Ella Jane had chosen to hang out with those idiots outside of the prom. Pissed off that he let himself give into the anger he was trying to bury. And extremely pissed off that, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get ahead of his feelings for her. She’d made it more than clear that she didn’t want a relationship with him, so why couldn’t he just let her go?

“I mean it, Hayden,” she warned. “You’re going to have a nasty scar.”

“It’s fine,” he snapped. “Just close it up already.”

“Whoa. You don’t get to be a dick to me.” Cami dropped her hands and took a step back. “I get being angry with Jarrod and Devon. Hell, I even get the being mad at Ella Jane or Coop or whoever in the hell else you want to blame for tonight, but you’re not going to unload your crap on me. I’m the one trying to help you.” She held up the bandage and waited for him to acknowledge that she was right.

He nodded. “I’m sorry,” he admitted as she resumed tending to his wound.