Page 11 of Savage Lover

I don’t know if Johnny gets the reference. It pisses him off anyway. He roars and swings a fist the size of a brick at my head.

I duck under it, then I flex my legs like pistons and drive my head directly upward into Johnny’s face. The top of my skull meets his nose with sickening force. In the roshambo of body parts, skull beats nose every time. The sound of the break is oddly hollow, like a baseball bat against a pumpkin. Blood comes flooding out both of Johnny’s nostrils, soaking the front of his Bears t-shirt in an instant.

“ARGH!!! FUUUUGGHH!” Johnny howls inarticulately.

His two buddies rush at me from either side.

I was expecting that. Still, I can only do so much to fend them off. I’m 6’2, strong but lean. These dudes probably weigh 240 pounds each. They look like they spend their weekends benching and injecting each other’s asses with racehorse ‘roids. I may not have stuck with those physics classes long, but I learned enough to know their combined mass is gonna take me down.

So instead of waiting for them to plow into me, I run at one on the left, skidding into his ankle with both feet outstretched, like I’m sliding into home plate. His ankle bends at a nasty angle and he topples over on top of me.

Unfortunately, that gives his buddy time to kick me right in the face. He gets me in the mouth, splitting my top lip. Kicking is a bitch move, especially three-on-one.

Johnny is still howling and clutching his nose, and Red is screaming too, though I’m not sure for what reason—because I’m scuffling with these two meatheads, or because I busted up her boyfriend’s face.

I’m pummeling every inch of the second guy that I can reach. He really pissed me off with that kick to the face. I’ve got him down on the ground and I’m hitting him again and again until my knuckles are bloody. His buddy hobbles over and cracks me one in the eye, and I retaliate with an elbow to his face.

At this point, Red’s shrieks have drawn a crowd. Five or six dudes yank us apart, pulling me off the face-kicker.

While I’m being restrained, Johnny takes the opportunity to slug me in the gut. It slams the air out of me. If I didn’t have people holding both my arms, I’d knife the fucker for that one. I have a switchblade in my pocket. I wasn’t gonna use it in a friendly fight, but now he’s really making me mad.

Before I can get loose, Levi steps between us, shoving us both back.

“Alright, alright, you had your fun,” he says.

Levi’s got bleached blond hair and a bunch of chains around his neck. He’s wearing a stars-and-stripes windbreaker and acid-washed jeans. I’d tell him that he looks like Vanilla Ice, but he’d take that as a compliment.

“If you want to keep fighting, you gotta go somewhere else,” he says.

“I’m gonna kill that little shit!” Johnny roars, still cradling his nose.

“Fine,” Levi says again. “But not here.”

He looks over at me. I spit a little blood out on the grass.

“How ‘bout you?” Levi says.

“I’m good,” I say. “I’ll come inside.”

“Cool.”

Levi nods at his buddies to let go of me. I straighten up, tossing the hair back out of my face.

“You’re fuckin’ dead, Nero,” Johnny hisses as I walk past him.

I just smile at him, blood in my teeth. If I’m in a bad mood the next time I see him, I’m gonna cut his fucking throat without a word of warning.

I head into Levi’s house, which is even hotter than outside and packed with way too many people. The air is so thick with smoke that I could get high just by breathing hard.

The heat makes my lip throb. I head into the kitchen, planning to grab a handful of ice.

Levi’s kitchen is a time capsule of the 70s—pine cabinets and avocado fridge. Granny didn’t give it a facelift, and Levi sure as hell won’t bother. I doubt he’s cooked a meal in his life. The counters are covered in half-eaten take-out boxes.

I crack the freezer door. The only thing inside is an empty vodka bottle. No ice at all, not even the trays.

I close it up again. Over the thud of EDM music, I hear an irritating drawl that’s all too familiar to me. Bella Page, sinking her claws into somebody.

I look over at the girls. It’s the three wicked bitches, surrounding some girl with dark curls tied back by a bandanna.

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