Page 85 of Their Wicked Ways

My hackles instantly rose, but I fought the urge to shove the guy away.

Blondie grinned at whoever was behind me and stepped closer, boxing me in.

My hindbrain screamed that this wasn’t right. I tried to ignore it, but I couldn’t.

I didn’t want them. I didn’t want anyone except Ez and Wes.

I was just trying to figure out a way to politely untangle myself from them when the guy behind me wrapped his arms around my waist, locking me against him.

Before I could react, Blondie was against my front, sandwiching me between them so tight I had to hold my breath against the smell of alcohol. Were they drunk? How had I missed that?

Fear tightened my chest. I needed to get away before I went into panic mode and started flailing.

“No,” I said, my voice clear and loud enough to be heard over the music.

They ignored me.

“Let me go.” I tried to wiggle out from between them, but they just held me tighter.

A loud rushing sound filled my ears as my vision went hazy around the edges.

I wasn’t a small guy, but I also wasn’t a fighter. I’d spent my childhood grappling with my little brothers, but there was an enormous difference between play wrestling with someone smaller than me and trying to fight off two guys who were my size and bigger.

“Get off.” I planted my hands on Blondie's chest and shoved.

He fell back a step but was right back on me a second later.

Reacting out of sheer instinct, I shoved him again, putting all my strength behind it. “No!”

He stumbled into the couple behind him. His friend either hadn’t expected that, or he didn’t want to be next, and he let me go.

Taking advantage of their surprise, I darted out from between them and hightailed it toward the exit.

Time to go home.

This was a stupid idea anyway.

Ez and Wes were done with me. I needed to accept it so I could move on. But tonight wasn’t the night.

I was so focused on my quest to flee that I didn’t notice Ezra until he stepped in front of me.

His hands on my shoulders knocked me out of my stupor, and my tunnel vision faded.

“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” he asked, his eyes glowing with rage and his nostrils flaring.

Oh fuck. I’d never seen him look that angry before, like he was ready to tear those guys apart and enjoy every second of it.

“I’m okay,” I said quickly, flicking my gaze to Wes. He looked even more enraged. His hands were balled into tight fists, his body tense and ready to strike. But the scariest part was his expression. His normally happy demeanor and quick smiles were nowhere to be seen and had been replaced by a mask of pure, unadulterated rage. “They didn’t hurt me.”

Ez relaxed, and his expression shifted to one of concern. “Come on.” He slid one arm over my shoulders and tucked me against his side.

Gratefully, I went with him, sighing in relief as Wes stood on my other side like a sentry, one hand on my back as he glared daggers at anyone who stepped too close to us.

Once we were outside, I breathed in the crisp night air, using it to ground myself and let go of the last of the fear lingering inside me.

“Are you okay?” Ez asked, pulling me to a stop about a half block from the club.

I nodded.

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