Page 96 of American Beauty

Alex’s nostrils flare, his jaw tight. “Shut your fucking mouth.”

Ty takes a step forward, challenging him. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to let her go without a fight.”

It happens fast—so fast. He lunges, his fist colliding with Ty’s jaw with a sickening crack. Ty stumbles back, shakes off the hit, and charges forward.

The full force of two huge, powerful men colliding in my living room makes the walls tremble. The coffee table rattles, a lamp crashes to the floor. I knew this was coming—I felt it themoment Alex laid eyes on Ty—but the sheer brutality of it still shocks me.

A grunt. A fist meeting flesh. The deep, guttural sound of impact as Alex shoves Ty back against the wall.

Ty retaliates, throwing a punch that snaps Alex’s head to the side.

I suck in a sharp breath as Alex recovers, the look in his eyes turning lethal. He comes at Ty harder, slamming him against the back of my couch before taking him to the ground. The two of them grapple for control, muscles straining, bodies colliding. It’s raw, violent, unrestrained.

Ty flips Alex, pinning him down, his fists landing blows to his face. My stomach twists as blood smears across my hardwood floor.

Ty stops, Alex pinned beneath him. He leans in, voice low, dripping with venom. “I can see why you don’t want to let her go. Her pussy tastes so sweet.”

Oh. Fuck.

He went there.

The coffee table gives beneath their weight, splintering into pieces.

Alex’s roar is pure fury. With a surge of strength, he reverses their positions, straddling Ty and unleashing hell. One hit. Another. And another.

Blood drips from Alex’s lip. Ty’s face is a ruin of crimson.

Alex won’t stop punching Ty. He’s a machine.

“Stop!” I scream again, my voice cracking, but he doesn’t stop.

I step closer, panic clawing up my throat. “Please, Alex. You’re going to kill him!”

Ty groans, his head lolling to the side, but Alex doesn’t let up. His fists drive into Ty’s face, his knuckles slick with blood. Thesickening sound of bone against bone echoes through the room, each impact making my stomach turn.

“Alex!” My voice is desperate now, pleading.

And then something in him falters. His fist hovers midair, shaking. His breath moves in and out of his lungs, his entire body rigid.

Ty’s body goes slack beneath Alex’s fists, his hands falling to his sides. He’s no longer fighting back, no longer throwing punches. He just lies there, his face bloodied, his chest rising and falling in ragged, uneven breaths.

Alex shoves off Ty and falls back against the sofa, dragging his hands through his hair, gripping it.

“Fuuuck!” His voice is a roar, the word ripping through the air like a gunshot.

Ty is motionless on his back, blinking up at the ceiling, blood oozing. His nose is a mess—broken, no doubt. His cheekbone already swelling. But still, after everything, he finds it in himself to smile.

“This changes nothing, Sebring.” He coughs, spitting blood onto my floor. “I still love her.”

Alex’s head snaps toward him, his eyes dark with rage. “Fuck you, motherfucker. You don’t know what love is. And you sure as hell don’t deserve to love someone like Magnolia.”

“You’re right. I didn’t know what it was to love someone. But that was before her.”

Alex’s chest rises and falls rapidly, his voice low, guttural. “She is my heart and soul. The air in my lungs. The blood in my veins.” His eyes burn into Ty’s, deadly and unrelenting. “You will never have her. I promise you that.”

I press a hand to my chest as I take in the damage.

My living room looks like a war zone. Shattered glass and splintered wood scatter across the floor, the coffee table demolished beyond recognition. A dented lamp lies facedown,its crooked shade barely clinging on. One of the dining chairs is overturned, and the sofa sits askew, shoved off-center from the rug. Even the armchair by the window is twisted at an awkward angle as if the whole room is still reeling from the chaos.

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