Page 61 of Faking Summer
They surged forward, their movements desperate as they scrambled to lift Wells, who was still groaning. "Hey, do you want us to take them?"
Nothing could stop the snicker that escaped me from that question. They’d never be able to take us, but it might be fun to watch them try.
"No. No more fighting. Let's go," Wells gasped out, his voice barely more than a croak.
They nodded and then stumbled away, holding Wells up by his arms. "Man, what the hell happened?" they asked him, before they disappeared into the darkness.
twenty-five
Caroline
I traced the rim of the shot glass Sam handed me. "I can’t take this anymore," I said, glancing at the back door, anxiety knotting my stomach. "It's been way too long now. What are they doing back there?"
Sam snickered and shook her head. "Wells is definitely getting his ass kicked," she said with certainty. “I would not want to be him right now.”
We looked at each other, then we reached for our shots in unison. Together, we tilted our heads back, the burn carving a path down our throats as we continued to wait for that back door to open.
"Should I just go out there?" I questioned, knowing I couldn’t stay seated much longer.
“They're walking in now," she said, her voice barely above a breath. "There's one, two, three..." She paused, her count trailing off into uncertainty, her eyes narrowing. “And no Wells.”
“Let’s go,” I said, rising out of my seat.
We pushed past elbows and shoulders to get to the back of the bar. Except once I got there, it was only Crew and Bailey.
"Where's Reese?" I asked Bailey, looking around.
"Bathroom," Bailey shot back, his gaze skimming past me with disinterest.
Unease took over as I turned away to find him. The laughter faded behind me until I stopped at the men's bathroom door, hesitating for a moment before my impatience made the decision for me.
The door swung open, revealing Reese hovering over the sink, hands braced on both sides. His shoulders were hard set. A deep purple bruise was already blooming on his cheek.
"What are you doing in here?" he asked, not turning back but glancing at me in the mirror. The silence stretched between us until I stepped further into his space, the door clicking shut behind me.
I leaned against the dark wall, my gaze never leaving him. "What happened outside?" I asked, already knowing the answer, but it was the only question I could think of.
He watched himself in the mirror as shadows played across the contours of his face, making him look even more intense. "It's taken care of," he snapped.
His shoulders rose and fell with each measured breath. The room seemed to contract around us, the walls closing in, the air heavy.
"Reese," I started, my voice barely above a whisper, "you're shaking."
His hands gripped the sink tighter, knuckles whitening. "I'm good," he said, his voice rough like gravel. "I just need a second."
"Are you hurt?" I asked quietly as I stepped behind him.
He lifted his head slightly, his eyes locking onto mine in the mirror. I glimpsed a storm in them, rage contained but nowhere near completely settled. His jaw worked silently, muscles clenching and unclenching as if trying to calm his thoughts.
"No," he finally said, though it was more a dismissal of my concern than any real assurance. "He tried to fucking touch you… and do whatever else he wanted because of me. What happened to you was my fault."
Without thinking, I reached for him, my hand findinghis. "Look at me," I urged as he turned toward me. “I'm fine. And you’re not the reason Wells is a dick."
As I drew his hand up, guiding his palm to rest against the curve of my cheek, the roughness of his hand melted into the softness there.
"I should've been there," he said, voice low. "I should've protected you."
"I stopped him, but you… you stood up for me." I said, my heart sort of exploding. I wasn’t used to anyone having my back, but for some reason, he kept doing it—over and over. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. But this time, it hit me harder than any time before.
