Page 90 of The Love of My Next Life
“Back off, Masters,” I grind out. Lennon’s fingers tighten on my bicep.
“Macon,” she warns in a low voice.
“You back off, Davis,” Eric spits back, taking a step toward me. “I’m just here to get my date.”
He tries to reach past me for Lennon, but I shove him hard and he stumbles back a step.
“Macon, don’t,” Lennon says louder. I ignore her and point at Eric.
“You fucking touch her, and I’ll break every finger on your hand.”
“Are you insane?” he snaps, standing up tall and puffing out his chest. He eyes me like I’m some escaped serial killer, then looks over my shoulder. “C’mon, Lennon.”
“Don’t talk to her,” I grind out. “Don’t look at her.” I try to push Lennon behind me.
“Macon, stop it,” Lennon says with a sigh. She goes to step around me and I stop her.
“This is what you want?” I ask, and she hesitates. “You want to go with this jock asshole?”
It’s not what she wants. I know it, and she knows it. She just doesn’t want to hurt his feelings.But what aboutmyfeelings.
“Just let her fucking go,” Eric says from behind me, and I feel his hand come down hard on my shoulder as his other hand reaches for Lennon.
I react on instinct, throwing my left elbow back into his stomach, then turning quickly and clocking him with a right hook. He nearly falls on his ass, but catches himself and comes at me.
“Macon!” Lennon screams.
“What the fuck is wrong with you,” Eric shouts, launching his fist at my face.
I’m drunk as fuck, so he lands it right on my left eye. A crunch sounds through my body with the burst of pain, but I throw out two more jabs, glancing one off Eric’s jaw and the other in his stomach. My punches don’t stop him. He swings on me, body shots to the stomach and sides. He catches me once more on the cheek, then the mouth. My lip splits and my face throbs. It should hurt, but I barely feel it.
He expects me to stop. I don’t. I come back harder. I get him twice in the torso before landing an uppercut to his chin. He stumbles and falls to a crouch.
“I’m fucking insane, remember?” I spit out, advancing on Eric’s hunched form. “I swear to fucking god—” I swing again, busting up my knuckles on his teeth, “—you don’t fucking touch her.”
Eric swings blindly at me, catching me in the head and splitting my eyebrow open. I can feel blood dripping down my face. Can taste the metallic tang on my tongue. Before I can land another punch, Lennon pushes in front of me, pounding on my chest with her fists. The tears on her face halt me mid-swing.
“Just stop, Macon,” she pleads. “You’re gonna really hurt him.”
I’ve scared her. She’s looking at me like I’m unhinged. The villain. I drop my arm, and she turns to Eric. She reaches her hands to his face then drops them to her sides.
“I’m so sorry,” she says to him. “You should go.”
“And leave you here with that psycho?” Eric argues, glaring at me.
Lennon puts her hand on his chest, and I want to snap again. I want to rip it off him and bust up his other eye.
“Go, Eric,” she says more firmly. “I’ll call you later.”
He hesitates, and I smirk.
“Go on, Masters,” I goad. “Bye-bye.”
Lennon throws me a murderous glare, so I put up my palms and shut my mouth. But I wink at him with the eye not currently swelling shut, and I swear he growls at me.
He and Lennon have a whispered exchange, and then he turns slowly and leaves the courtyard. As soon as he’s out of sight, Lennon whirls on me.
“What the hell is wrong with you, Macon?” she shouts, shoving at my chest. “Are you high? Why would you do that?”
