Page 63 of You Had Me At Thirteen

‘That guy.’ I point behind me. ‘He’s here.’

‘What guy?’ Wren snaps his head towards the crowd, then back to me. ‘From the party last week?’

I nod, wiping my eyes and wet cheeks, knowing full well I’ve just smudged my mascara down my face.

‘That motherfucker. Did he touch you?’

I nod again, my bottom lip quivering.

Wren’s nostrils flare as he bares his teeth. ‘I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking kill him,’ he says as he shoves his hands through his hair. ‘You wait here. I’ll be back in a second.’

I grab his hand and pull him towards me. ‘Don’t leave me. Please, Wren.’

Anger coils around his body, each muscle tense and ready to explode, but when his eyes meet mine again, he pulls me into him. ‘Jesus. It’s ok. He won’t touch you again. I promise.’ He kisses the top of my head and rubs small circles over the back of my neck.

Being in Wren’s arms stops the sobbing, and even though his heart is beating hard against his rib cage, it’s somewhat calming. But, after a few seconds, I’m being shoved away into the arms of Clive.

‘Look after Matilda,’ Wren says. ‘I’ll be right back.’ When he stalks into the crowd, my moment to protest is lost.

Clive wraps his arms around me as he watches after Wren. ‘What in the goddamn… oh shit,’ he says, as Trevor steps up beside us.

‘What’s going on?’ Trevor says, handing Clive a bottle of water.

‘Wren,’ is all I say, surprised I can even speak through my shallow breathing.

All three of us watch on as Wren approaches my attacker. How he even recognises him has me scratching my head, but I don’t have time to think about that, when he grabs him by the back of his shirt and drags him towards the front of the club. The crowd disperses, bodies piling towards the exit with cheers and whistles, a chorus offight, fight, fightechoing through the packed club.

We’re caught up in the stampede, making it out the front door just in time to see Wren’s fist connect with Stalker’s face. It’s not even a fight, when Wren gets on top of him and throws punch after punch. It’s like watching him in the cage all over again.

Blood splatters over Wren’s white shirt, while Stalker fights to push him off. It’s no use, though. I don’t think anyone can tame the beast that I’m witnessing right now. And I can’t decide whether I’m scared or turned on.

Nope that’s a lie. I’m definitely turned on.

Seeing him in the cage was nothing compared to the energy spilling into the air now. Wren is exploding into Stalker, his attempts to lift his hands to shield his face falling short.

That’s when I feel the need to step in, so I race towards the brawl, screaming Wren’s name. Trevor trails behind me, and steps forward to grab Wren by the shoulders and yank him backwards.

Wren laughs, a sickening sound that should send me running, before shrugging out of Trevor’s grip, and going in for round two.

I’m quick to grab the back of his shirt. ‘Stop it, Wren. Please.’

He pauses when I place my hand in his and glances down at our interlocked fingers before back up at me. His eyes are wide, skin flushed, body shaking with adrenaline and anger. I plead with my eyes for him to stop.

Old mate on the ground groans when he attempts to drag himself into a standing position, but before he can plant both feet on the ground, Wren pulls out of my grip and shoves him back down, grabbing his hair, and pulling his head up.

‘If you so much as look at her ever again, I’ll put you in the fucking ground. Do you hear me?’ Wren’s lip curls up into a snarl, spit flying from his mouth as he speaks.

Stalker nods, so Wren lets him go with a shove. He crawls along the ground for a few seconds before he’s up and running, turning every few metres to make sure Wren isn’t chasing after him.

‘Are you okay?’ I say, bringing Wren’s attention back to me.

‘I’m fine. You shouldn’t have done that.’

‘Are you kidding?’

‘You shouldn’t have stopped me. I had it under control.’ He runs a hand through his hair, as he paces in front of me.

‘I… I’m sorry,’ I say.

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