Page 41 of Perfect

Nate scratched the side of his head, where the silver scar was, his expression now thoughtful.

“You want me to match up the other side pretty boy?” Connor goaded.

Shit, so Connor was responsible for the scar on Nathan’s face? I held my breath, thinking about the fight that broke out last year. It must have been between these two then?

Nathan rolled his shoulders and there was a split second where I thought it may kick off again.

I flinched as Connor cracked his knuckles and they stood squared up in silence for a moment longer.

Nate was obviously battling with his emotions about what he should do. I imagine our audience had something to do with that. He wouldn’t want to lose face, even in front of his ‘freeloading friends’.

My eyes roamed over the two boys. Between the two men, there was no comparison, it could not be considered a fair fight. Yes, Nathan was tall and broad but he wasn’t packed with shoulders like steel girders and a body honed with solid muscle like his adversary.

An angry Connor was ascaryConnor, I knew that in spades now.

“This is bullshit! I’ve had it with you man, we’re so fucking done,” Nathan shot back suddenly, spinning away, grabbing the bottle and storming out into the garden. I heard a smashing noise as he threw the bottle of beer onto the patio, seething with frustrated rage.

Tom let out a huge sigh of relief that he must have been holding for ages.

“Fuck me man!” A spectator behind me said in an amused voice, obviously having enjoyed the scene. “You should have lamped the fucker.”

Connor shot a look over his shoulder before saying. “I suggest you get back to the party dickhead.” He then turned to me.

The chatter about the incident was instant and then people started to drift away, now ‘the show’ was over.

Relief swept through me like a tsunami.

Connor was glaring down at me and this dragged my attention away from the back-peddling spectators, his dark eyes drilling into mine with another ‘don’t fuck with me’ message written there.

“Look, I’m sorry, I don’t…” I mumbled, shying my gaze away from ‘that look’.

“I said get in the car. For once; do as you’re told.” His jaw tightened as he scowled at me and I knew that unless I didexactlyas he said, the situation would become even more embarrassing. If the guy tried to put me over his shoulder as you saw in the movies, I would die on the spot.

I turned and pushed the beer into Tom’s hands, heat stinging my cheeks before retrieving my bag and jacket.

It felt like I was getting told off by the teacher in front of the whole class. “Fine,” my tone was unbelievably firm, considering the shit storm standing in front of me.

Tom shot me a reassuring smile before saying. “I’m sorry Harlow, I shouldn’t have brought you.”

I fanned back my hair and straightened my dress, composing myself for my exit. “No,I’msorry. I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble.”

He nodded in silent understanding but didn’t reply, all too aware of Connor looming beside us, his hands at his sides fisted.

“Andyoushould have known better after what happened with Ella and the shit that went down here last year,” Connor said accusingly to Tom.

He looked thoroughly ashamed.

“I know, I’m sorry, I—.”

“Save it,” Connor shot out dismissively before roughly grabbing my upper arm, his grip angry. His large hand pretty much wrapped the whole way around it.

All eyes were on us as he literally dragged me through the throng of people. Tugging me close to his body. “Walk,” he said into my ear, his voice was full of warning and in spite of myself, I felt slightly turned on by his harsh treatment of me.

He shifted to move behind me, steering my body; his chest pressed into my back and he ushered me through the front door and out into the yard. The fresh air hit me full-on in the face and made me wobble again. Connor’s hand tightened to the point where I’d surely have bruises.

“You’re actually hurting my arm Connor,” I complained as I tried to free myself. His touch wasn’tthatpainful, but it was certainly generating a significant amount of chaos against my skin.

He ignored me and only released his grip after he’d forced me to the passenger side of the Ranger.

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