Too Sweet (Hayes Brothers #3)(26)

I spin on my heel, aiming for the door, my heart falling to my knees. More guys from the football team lurk by the window, their amused eyes following my every move. I don’t want to check if any of them have a similarly noble idea of using me to stick it in Brandon’s face.

Maybe Aisha could wait with me for a cab...

But instead of her, my eyes find Nico, still where I left him, a look of mulish bad temper carved into his face.

I thought he left, but no... he saw the whole thing.

Of course he did. Just my luck.

Justin grabs my wrist, yanking me back. “I’d never fuck you without permission,” he growls. “I’m not a rapist, sweetheart. I’m simply giving you an alterna—”

His words die a sad death when a clenched fist connects with his cheekbone, swishing less than an inch from my face. A kind of disturbing, nonchalant violence buzzes in the air like spent gunpowder, and my stomach somersaults back, nausea in the highest gear.

“What the fuck?!” Justin cries, holding his bleeding lip. “What’s your problem, Nico?”

“Beat it, kid. She’s not yours.”

“How do you know? Maybe she is!”

Nico moves his searing gaze to me, and I shake my head, my vocal cords tangled together. All color drains from my face. Body-wide shudders don’t help me focus enough to get words out. I’ve never been more afraid of a person in my life. Not even Asher scared me as much as Nico does right now, glaring at me like some prophet about to invoke the wrath of God.

“I told you I’m not interested, Justin,” I stutter, swallowing back the bile coating my throat.

I drop my bag on the ground and sink, digging in there until my fingers come across my mouthwash. The peppermint smell doesn’t stop my hands trembling or my heart racing, but five deep breaths settle my stomach enough that I won’t puke my guts in the middle of the bar.

Just when I think I have a hold on myself, Nico crouches before me, all fire, brimstone, and death. I jerk back, startled by the sinister edge in his almost black eyes.

“Don’t make a fucking scene,” he clips, every razor-sharp word punctuated with pure disdain. “You let him touch you. Don’t pretend you’re distraught now.” He reaches for me again, but I’m so taken aback by his tone that I fall flat on my butt. “Get up. I’m taking you home.”

“No, no, I-I—” I pause, closing my eyes briefly.

You let him touch you.

I didn’t, I... I just... ugh, my head is spinning, and the thunder of my pulse gets in the way of my concentration.

I didn’t let Justin touch me. It’s just that flashbacks of the night I was almost raped seize my mind whenever someone grabs me unexpectedly.

I kicked and screamed as much as my mellow, drugged body allowed when Asher spiked my drink. I fought him, using the little strength I had, but the effect was different than I hoped. Instead of letting go, he slapped his hand over my mouth to keep me quiet.

My mind blanked.

I couldn’t form one coherent thought. I couldn’t break free or make a sound. That night, I learned I have a better chance of getting out of trouble if I remain calm and plan my moves.

That’s why I gave Brandon to the count of three before I sent my elbow flying. That’s why Justin got the same. It’s not time for them to grope me. It’s time for me to find courage, assess my position, and believe that I can break free.

“I said get up, Mia. Now,” Nico says, his words sharp enough to cut glass. “Up.”

I do as told, gathering myself off the ground as I tuck the mouthwash back into my purse. “I know my way home.”

“I bet,” he snaps, towering above me. “I won’t let you take a cab alone, so get moving. I don’t have all night, kid.”

The anger radiating off him finds its way into me, latching onto my nerve endings and igniting my mind with an unexpected burst of courage. Words I’d never normally even think roll off my tongue without hesitation.

“I’m not a kid, and you’re not going with me. Join your friends. I can take care of myself.” I walk around him, heading for the door, but he doesn’t let me get away.

He grips my arm, making me shudder for two unrelated reasons. One: I’m no longer comfortable around him, and two: an unhealthy thrill sweeps me from head to toe, contradicting the first thought. He’s riled up, ticking like a bomb, but in all his brute glowering annoyance, he’s gentle.

“I’m not asking for permission, Mia. I’m taking you home.” He ushers me outside, taking no care to make sure I keep up with his long legs. He basically drags me, but his touch is still nowhere near bruising point.

“That’s very thoughtful.” I snatch my hand free and open the door to the closest cab. “I’ll be okay on my own. I’ve done this before. Whatever your problem is, go stew somewhere else. I don’t need your attitude.”

Before I can theatrically slam the door shut, he’s there, holding it open, getting in, and forcing me to scoot over. “The address?”

“I said—”

“I know what you fucking said! Believe me, the last thing I want to do tonight is babysit a juvenile drama queen, but Cody wouldn’t be happy to know I left you alone, so be a doll and don’t fucking argue.” He pulls his phone out, his thumbs tapping against the screen. Half a minute later, he pats the driver’s shoulder. “Number nine Peony Drive.”