Page 45 of His Middle

The cries grew louder, the movements more frantic. Sawyer charged forward as Bruce yelled out, “I’m getting Zeke and calling the cops!”

Sawyer nodded, hoping Bruce could locate the club security guard right away. He returned his attention to the scuffle then barreled his way into the two dark figures he could barely make out in the minimal light. He was immediately knocked on his ass, landing with a grunt, rage filling him at the thought that someone might be hurting his boy.

“Sawyer!”

Noah’s agonizing yell spurred Sawyer into action and he leapt to his feet, his eyes adjusting to the darkness as he used the ambient glow from a nearby streetlamp and the club’s back door light to guide him.

“Get the fuck away from him!”

Sawyer rammed into the mountainous man who’d had Noah in his clutches, pummeling him with his fists as the asshole grabbed Sawyer’s shoulders and easily shoved him to the ground again.

“Run, Noah!”

Whoever this thug was, the guy could probably go up against the brawniest wrestler in the world and easily win. Sawyer didn’t stand a chance of overpowering him, but he could at least distract him long enough for Noah to get away.

Sawyer scrambled to his feet to launch his next assault and was rewarded with a swing to his face. If he hadn’t jerked his head away in time, the fist that had glanced off his temple would’ve probably broken his nose. Maybe the guy’s towering frame was giving Sawyer an advantage in that regard.

A large metal can filled with sand and cigarette butts came flying out of nowhere and clocked the bully in the side of his head. He stumbled back with a howl, grabbing his head, wobbling on his feet. Sawyer froze for a second, startled, not sure what was happening. He whipped around to see Noah frantically searching the ground as if hoping to discover another makeshift weapon.

“Dammit, Noah! Run back insidenow!”

“Daddy, watch out!”

The thug charged toward Sawyer like a crazed bull and Sawyer feigned to the side in the nick of time. The guy had bulk, but Sawyer had speed and reflexes. But now, Sawyer was backed against the adult bookstore’s dumpster and had nowhere to go. He braced himself for impact as his attacker whirled back around to make another attempt at crushing him.

Yells nearby caught Sawyer’s attention, distracting the thug long enough for Sawyer to dart toward the back door of the club. Noah seemed to have finally obeyed him, as he was no longer in the vicinity either. As he drew closer, the club’s security man on duty rushed past him, charging into the fray.

A series of growls, grunts and punches followed but Sawyer only had one objective, and that was to make sure Noah was safe. Sawyer reached the kitchen’s back door where Bruce almost ran into him on the way out, bat in hand, a vicious scowl highlighting his features.

Sawyer grabbed his arm. “Did you call the police?”

Bruce struggled to free himself from Sawyer’s grip. “Yeah, but who knows when they’ll fucking get here.”

Sawyer glanced over his shoulder and noted that while the fight was still raging, Zeke seemed to be holding his own. If the cops showed up and Bruce was beating the crap out of the thug, a misunderstanding regarding who was the true attacker could cause a terrible outcome.

“Don’t intercede unless Zeke is in danger, got it?”

“He’s in danger now!”

Bruce yanked his arm free and shot forward. Right then, the telltale sirens of the approaching police sounded, and Sawyer clutched at Bruce’s shirt.

“Get rid of that thing but stay here so you can give a statement.”

Bruce pressed his lips together, an angry curse bursting from him as he hurled the bat against the side of the club wall where it clanged then rolled on the ground next to the dumpster. The ensuing seconds erupted in a brief standoff with the thug and Zeke both pushing away from each other before raising their hands in surrender. They were instructed to get on the ground, four officers from two cars training their weapons on the men as they complied.

The adrenaline surging through Sawyer’s body began to wane as the situation defused and the police took control of the situation. He regarded a still scowling Bruce.

“Where’s Noah? Is he okay?”

Bruce jerked his thumb over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving the scene before them. “He’s probably peeking through the back door. And yeah, he seems all right.” He turned to Sawyer. “Hey. Just wanna say you were right. I saw red, but this could’ve ended badly.”

Sawyer clasped his shoulder. “Not gonna lie. I was tempted to let you have at it.” He gave Bruce a tight smile. “I need to check on Noah, then I’ll be right out. The cops will want to speak with both of us.”

Bruce nodded. “I’ll let them know.”

Sure enough, Noah jumped out of the way as Sawyer opened the back door. He was about to scold him over not listening, but seeing Noah under the lights with his shirt torn, his arms and face covered in grime, redness that indicated bruises would soon form along with a scrape on his cheek, caused Sawyer to reach for him instead.

He stopped shy of grabbing Noah, worried that he might be in pain, or worse, had a fracture or deep contusions.

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