Page 22 of Sweet Oblivion

I stepped closer and helped Aya up, even as red tinged the edges of my vision.

“You okay?” I asked, searching her face, desperate for reassurance.

She nodded, eyes wide, cheeks redder than the Oscar carpet.

“Yeah?” Lord said. He cracked his knuckles. “That’s it? What the fuck does that even mean? You think you’re going to take me down? By yourself.” He snorted.

“I don’t need to hit you, as enjoyable as that would be. I have much more effective means of dealing with your assholery.”

Still, I pulled my arm back and shot my fist into Lord’s Adam’s apple. He gasped for air.

“Don’t fuck with me, Lord. Don’t touch my friends. You hear me?”

Lord choked, his face mottled but filled with hatred.

I wasn’t done. I sent Steve a text. Got a situation in the hallway. Lord Prescott threatened me and shoved my friends around. I want to hit him.

I left off the again because Steve was going to be pissed when he found out I’d hit Lord in the first place.

My phone rang. “I’m on my way inside,” Steve said. “And I’ll take care of Lord.”

“I want him gone, Steve,” I snapped. “As in expelled. He shoved a girl.”

I risked a look back at Aya, who I’d kept behind me, not willing to let Lord hurt her again. A flush burned under her tanned skin, and I liked the look on her. She was slightly exotic but completely familiar—an electric combination.

“I’ll deal with Prescott,” Steve said again.

Lord must have heard Steve’s comment, because his mouth fell open and his eyes bugged. I didn’t bother to hold back my smile. “One phone call,” I’d told Lord. I’d told them all. But until the douche monkey came at Aya, I hadn’t cared enough to follow through.

That all changed when Lord put his hands on my girl.

My girl.

I gripped my phone tighter, needing it to tether me to the now. Shock and something warm settled in the angry swamp of my belly. For some reason, I didn’t hate the thought of Aya being my girl as much as I probably should’ve.

Aya bent down now, along with Naomi and Hugh, to collect the papers strewn across the hallway. Hugh, the asshole that he was, stared down Aya’s V-neck shirt, his mouth gaping like a freaking fish out of water, until Naomi elbowed him hard, right in the thigh.

I smirked, deciding I might actually like Naomi after all.

Lord stood up, his stance menacing. He raised his fists and launched himself at me. I managed to duck the first attempt—a right hook, but his left fist caught me in the ribs. I grunted. Over Lord’s shoulder I caught a glimpse of two armed security guards running toward us, followed by the head of school and Steve.

“Get the Prescott shit off him now,” Steve snapped to the guards. “Or I’ll do it. And I won’t be nice.”

The guards each gripped one of Lord’s arms, dragging him backward. Steve cast the bully a furious look.

“You okay?” he asked me.

I nodded, refusing to wince. But, holy hell, my ribs smarted. Lord had put a lot of effort into that punch.

“We’ll need you to come to my office, Nash,” the head of school said, a harried expression on his face.

“Sure.”

Steve gave me a long look, his gaze landing on Aya, who was still helping collect papers. He frowned and gave me a nod. He laid his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Proud of you.”

Well, he’d be less proud when he found out I’d nailed Lord in the throat, but whatever. Aya was safe.

“Give me a minute,” I said.

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