Page 112 of Tiny Fractures

He chuckles quietly, though his tone reflects no humor at all. “I swear, Cat,” he says, sliding a finger under my chin, and I recoil from his touch, “you seem to keep forgetting how small our town is. It’s really not hard at all to get information from people. I had no problem finding you. I got your number, then I got your address. I’ve actually been here a couple of days already; just kind of wanted to see what you’ve been up to, you know. You’re a busy little bee,” he chuckles, and I get a strong whiff of alcohol. He must be drunk. “And then I just happened to get to your house right as you were leaving, so I figured I’d follow you here and see if you wanted to catch up,” he says, his voice low, threatening, and I don’t think he understands how fucking insane he sounds.

“You need to leave,” I say, gathering as much courage as I can muster. I look over Adam’s shoulder, but there’s nobody there; the hallway to the bathrooms is around a corner and out of sight of everyone, including my friends… and Ronan.

“What? No, I just got here, and you owe me. You owe me a lot more than pictures of your tight little body,” Adam says, familiar anger flashing in his eyes. “You can’t just fuck up my life and then blow me off, you fucking little cock tease,” he spits, moving even closer toward me.

I back away, but there’s nowhere to go and my back hits the wall. Adam slams the palms of his hands against the wall on either side of my head, trapping me like an animal, his face only inches from mine. I’m acutely aware that we’re alone, that I have nowhere to go, and that it wouldn’t take much for Adam to overpower me and just take what he thinks he deserves. I’m scared. I know I should scream or kick him or something, but it’s like I’m frozen, just like I was every time he towered over me before he hit me.

“What do you want from me?” I ask, tears stinging in my eyes. But I refuse to cry, to give him any kind of power or control.

“I want you to make up for what you did to me,” he snarls, his words slurred but his nostrils flared. His eyes are hard yet bloodshot. “I was good to you; all I asked was that you be good to me in return, and you never were. Instead you led me on for five months, you bitch, and you never put out. But you can make up for it right now,” he says with a vicious grin, moving one of his hands to stroke my cheek.

I take the smallest of opportunities and squeeze under his arm and around him, walking as quickly as my feet will move down the hallway and into the open restaurant area. I can feel Adam on my heels, and just as I make it into the seating area he reaches for me, grabbing my wrist again, squeezing it tightly and pulling me roughly toward him.

“Adam, please stop!” I say as loudly as I can.

Suddenly it’s like time slows down, yet speeds up all at once, and Ronan is there, yanking Adam away from me.

“Get the fuck away from her,” Ronan growls as he steps between me and Adam, shielding me with his body. His muscles are so tightly wound they strain against the fabric of his shirt.

“This is none of your damn business, man,” Adam hisses at Ronan, who doesn’t move an inch, one hand reached back and resting on my hip. Realization suddenly seems to hit Adam, and a malicious grin spreads across his face as he looks at Ronan. “Oh shit, I recognize you,” Adam says before his eyes find me cowering behind Ronan. “I saw you with him earlier, holding hands and shit. Is this the guy you’re putting out for? You’re fucking him, aren’t you? You wouldn’t ever put out for me, you little slut, but…”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence because Ronan’s left fist crashes into Adam’s face with the sound of bones crushing. Adam stumbles back, swaying precariously. But Ronan doesn’t let up, his fist colliding with Adam’s face again and again.

There are chairs scraping and shocked shouts from restaurant patrons while Shane, Steve, Zack, Vada, Summer, and Tori run toward us.

Vada pulls me out of the way as the guys try to wrestle Ronan away from Adam, whose nose is bleeding profusely. Blood is spattering onto Adam’s shirt and the floor, and his right eye is already swelling shut. Steve and Shane pull Ronan backwards while Zack tries to block Adam, but Adam is able to get in two vicious punches—one right below Ronan’s left eye, the other on his lip, causing it to split open. It only seems to inflame Ronan, who tears himself away from his brother and best friend and punches Adam so hard in the stomach that Adam drops to his knees with a loud grunt before Ronan follows it up with a knee to Adam’s already beat-up face.

Shane and Steve manage to get ahold of Ronan’s arms again, yanking him back and away from the heaving pile that is Adam. Ronan’s eyes are filled with undiluted rage as he strains against Shane and Steve’s hold on him. I’ve never seen Ronan like this before, consumed by anger, and I don’t even think he realizes he’s hurt and bleeding. I hate that I’m the reason for all of this.

I run over to Ronan and fling my arms around his neck. It takes only a heartbeat before I feel him relax against me.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asks, his breathing still erratic. Shane and Steve let go of Ronan, and he pulls me into him, his chest heaving. I feel his heart kicking in his chest, adrenaline pumping in his veins.

“I’m okay,” I nod against him.

“What the hell happened?” Steve asks, his eyes on Adam, who remains on the floor.

I briefly recount what happened while Shane and Zack grab Adam and pull him off the floor rather unceremoniously.

Adam looks unsteady on his feet, and his face resembles a blackberry, all bruised and lumpy. As he wipes the blood from his mouth and obviously broken nose, he gives me a contemptuous look.

Ronan’s lip is still bleeding as he unravels his arms from around me and takes a step toward Adam. I reach for him, grabbing his biceps—a futile attempt at holding him back—and Steve and Shane immediately take on protective postures. Shane's hand presses against Ronan’s chest, trying to prevent a flare-up of the situation, and ready to jump in and provide Ronan with backup if he needs it.

“Stay the fuck away from Cat,” Ronan growls again at Adam.

“Or what?” Adam slurs, trying to sound intimidating, but he fails in his inebriated state and after getting his ass kicked.

“Or I’m going to hunt you down, and I’m going to fucking kill you,” Ronan says with so much hate in his voice that it almost scares me.

Adam considers Ronan for a second. The two of them are the same height, and though Adam has a larger frame, Ronan is leaner, more muscular, harder—his solid chest well-defined under his black shirt. Ronan’s solid stature and the fact that Adam is woefully outnumbered—Ronan, Steve, Shane, and Zack create an intimidating front—seems to bring Adam to his senses, at least momentarily.

“Don’t think we’re done,” Adam says, pointing his index finger at me.

I feel Ronan coil again. “No, you’re fucking done,” he says, his voice a low, threatening rumble.

Finally, Adam relents. He walks slowly to the front doors, pushing them open before he leaves.

I exhale the breath that has been trapped in my chest.

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