Ricochet (Addicted #1.5)(11)

“Hunch punch,” she tells him. “It’s kind of strong. I’ve only had a glass and a half.” Her eyes droop a little though, but she seems coherent. Not yet drunk. Maybe buzzed. I decided not to drink because alcohol loosens inhibitions, and mine need to be padlocked.

Suddenly, two guys start yelling in the middle of the dance floor. Their girlfriends try to pull them back, grabbing onto their thick muscles, but they can’t restrain them as they begin to barrel forward.

“Really?” Daisy shakes her head at the scene. And before I digest the abrupt fight, her boots clap against the hardwood and she slides between bodies to reach the two furious guys.

She’s crazy. My sister is flat-out nuts. Dear God.

Tattooed Guy pushes Tan Guy.

“What the fuck is your sister doing?” Ryke asks, and when we see Daisy physically inject herself between the two guys, Ryke curses under his breath and dashes in her path between the bodies. I follow close behind, grabbing onto his shirt so I don’t lose him.

Daisy throws her hands out between both guys.

“Get out of my fucking way!” Tattooed Guy shouts at her.

“Bryan. Come on, what are you going to do? Punch him?” She’s not even a little scared of being hit in the crossfire. And then I wonder: what if she wants to be? This is so messed up.

“Stay out of it, Daisy!” he shouts. “That fucker, he slept with Heidi.” A redhead tries to touch his shoulder, but he swats her away. A circle opens around them while people on the outskirts stare—like the two guys are Danny Zuko and Sandy Olsen, about to perform an epic dance.

Only this one will include fists and kicks and probably blood.

“She’s a fucking liar!” Tan Guy yells, veins pulsing in his large neck.

I stay a safe distance away, too afraid of Tan Guy who looks ready to beat the living shit out of Bryan for even suggesting he fucked some other girl.

Daisy keeps her hands up between them, separating their bodies, but her eyelids continue to sag. She wobbles a little, but she stands upright. Is she drunk? But she barely drank anything, and this seems to be hitting her really hard all of a sudden.

Ryke edges forward into the “fighting area” and places a hand on Daisy’s shoulder. “Go.”

“They’re not punching each other here,” she tells him. “This is stupid.”

His lips find her ear, and I hear him say, “This isn’t your fucking fight, Daisy. Let it go.”

She weakly pushes him off, swaying too much, and then points at Bryan. “You think you’re a man?” she snorts. “You hit him and then what? The other guy hits you back and you’ll feel better?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Bryan tells her.

Ryke shoots him the worst possible glare, one that could seriously shift mountains. Then his eyes drop back to Daisy. “Move.”

She stares at Bryan in challenge. “You want to hit him? Get through me.”

“Daisy!” I shout. Yep, she wants to be hit. To feel something, maybe. I don’t know, but she’s scaring me.

And that’s when Tan Guy charges from behind. Ryke shoves her out of the way, and she falls on her knees while he takes a punch to the jaw. I shimmy around the crowd, people cheering and grimacing as Bryan knees Tan Guy and Ryke tries to fight his way out of their feud.

Daisy has already picked herself up off the floor, wiping her hands on her green army jacket. “Lily?” she stumbles into my chest. We push our way out towards the kitchen area, able to breathe in the open air.

“Are you crazy?” I yell at her. “You don’t provoke guys to hit you.”

She loops a weak arm around my shoulder. “You think Mom would have been mad if I ruined my pretty face?” She laughs lightly and it quickly dies off. She blinks repeatedly, as though she sees stars or black spots. “Lily?”

“What’s wrong?” I ask her in a high-pitched voice. I shake her shoulder.

“I don’t know…something’s…not right…”

“Are you drunk?” What a stupid question to ask.

Ryke breaks through the crowd, a red welt blooming on his cheekbone. “That was the dumbest fucking thing I’ve seen in a long time.”

She turns around very, very slowly. “Who’s stupid? Them or me?” She keeps blinking, and he stares at her for a long moment, seeing the oddness in her movements.

“You okay?”

“Perfect,” she says. “Are you okay?” Her eyes slowly move to his welt.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, still inspecting her state. “You know, you have pretty huge balls.”

“The biggest.” Her lips pull into a dry smile, but it falls with her eyelids.

“Daisy?” His worried voice drives knives into my stomach.

Her knees give out. And he grabs underneath her arms before she hits the floor.

“What the fuck?” I say, my heart hammering.

He lifts her up, and her head lolls back, her arms hanging lifelessly by her side.

“Daisy.” Ryke’s hard eyes narrow, and he taps her face lightly. “Daisy, look at me.” Nothing. He pinches her cheeks together and shakes her head a little. She’s out of it.

I put two fingers to her neck and feel a weak pulse. “I don’t understand. She had a beer and one glass of punch.” Well, one and a half but I doubt that half mattered in the grand scheme of things. Right?