Page 14 of The Pact

She’s nowhere to be seen and I almost walk back into the main bar area when I notice that the backdoor isn’t completely closed.

Out back there’s a small back alley with just the dumpster and I push the door open thinking that if she’s taking out the trash, I’ll help her. There’s no way that she’d be able to hurl a heavy trash bag into the dumpster with that small frame.

I smile, thinking about the brownie points my idea to help will undoubtedly earn me but my smile immediately dies on my face when I see what’s going on outside.

A man is flattening a girl against the bar’s brick wall, and I don’t have to step any closer to know the identity of the girl, that light blonde hair is unmistakable. I also know that he’s trying to force himself on her by the tension in his body and by the sobs that come from her.

Now, I might not be a fucking saint but God help me, forcing a woman into anything is something that disgusts me to my core.

“No, please. Let me go,” she begs.

The man grunts, trying to wedge a knee between her legs and I see red. “Did you hear what the lady said? She said to let her go. And she said please. I’d do as she asked because I guarantee that you will let her go and I won’t be quite so nice when I ask, asshole.”

The man turns his head but doesn’t move away from her. “Mind your own fucking business, asshole. If you wanted this little bitch, you should’ve gotten here before me. But if you come back in ten minutes, you can have my sloppy seconds.”

“Wrong fucking answer.” I hear the door open again and I don’t even have to look to know it’s the guys. Not that I couldn’t take this pitiful excuse for a human being by myself, but this isn’t this motherfucker’s lucky night for sure.

I’m on him before he even manages to turn completely back to his victim, grabbing him by the collar of his expensive shirt and pulling him away from her.

“You know, asshole, this is my business. You made it my business the second you decided you wanted to take something she didn’t want to give to you. What kind of pathetic piece of shit needs to use violence to get pussy?”

The asshole must have a death wish because rather than begging for mercy, he snarls, “What kind of pathetic loser needs his friends’ help to get into a fight?”

My lips quirk up in a smile. The guy’s a similar height to me but I have at least thirty pounds of muscle on his skinny frame. I bet he hasn’t seen the inside of a gym since PE in high school or something. “Don’t fool yourself, motherfucker. My friends just like to watch.” I laugh and the bastard takes advantage of my moment of distraction to escape my grasp and swings his fist, catching me unprepared.

The impact between his fist and my jaw is more noisy than it’s painful and it’s the only hit he’s gonna get tonight, I swear.

I throw a punch, hitting right under his cheekbone, making his metal framed glasses fly off his face.

I don’t give him the time to react, I charge him, crushing him against the wall.

I spare one glance to the girl slumped on the floor and I pummel my fists into the asshole with the intention of inflicting maximum damage.

I keep pounding my fists into the guy’s face, over and over, oblivious to the sound of bone shattering and crunching, of the wet feeling of blood. I can just feel the skin on my own knuckles breaking but I don’t fucking care. The idea of what he wanted to do to that poor girl makes me so furious that I don’t fucking care if I kill him. If he doesn’t have respect for women, I’ll fucking teach him some.

By the time two sets of strong arms pull me away from the bloody pulp that the guy’s face resembles at this point, I’d even forgotten that my friends were outside, just behind me.

“Dude.” Shep tightens his hold on me when I fight to get back to hitting the sack of shit against the wall. “You’re gonna fucking kill him. That’s more than enough.”

“I want to fucking kill him! Fucking revolting piece of trash! I’ll make sure he never touches another woman again with his filthy hands!”

Ashton steps in front of me, caging me effectively between his body and Shep’s while Bode checks on the girl.

I see her slump against my best friend’s chest, her shoulders wracked by loud sobs and I struggle against Ashton and Shep again, ready for round two.

“Kelley, knock it the fuck off!” Ashton uses his firmest tone and I finally relent. I step closer to the girl, worried about her.

“Are you ok?” Bode asks and the girl nods, looking at me for the first time since I stepped outside.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “If you hadn’t come outside, I don’t know what he would’ve done to me.”

I turn to look at the asshole, who’s crumpled on the ground and he’s coughing and sputtering blood.

The backdoor to the bar opens again and Joe steps outside, taking in the scene.

Once we explain what happened, he offers to call the cops but I immediately see the hesitation on his face. He knows the guys and I are under twenty-one and turns a blind eye to our fake IDs because he knows us and knows that we don’t come here looking for trouble. Well fuck, not usually at least.

So when the girl doesn’t seem keen on calling the police, the relief on his face is more than obvious.

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