Page 116 of Imogen

“One that cares about others.”

“Listen here—”

“Don’t start,” Hayden warns. “Litter guy is heading over.”

“We really should get back on the road. I need to check in before my client’s set later,” Ben admits as he helps me down.

That’s when chaos erupts.

A group of lads crash into our huddle, bumping into Liam and knocking his food all over the ground. I noticed them messing around while on their way back to their car and was hoping they’d walk around us, not through us.

“Watch it, dickhead,” the tall, lanky guy snarks, as Liam stares down at his food.

“Shit,” I hiss when Liam comes unstuck and begins to lay into the guy.

“No one messes with my fucking food,” Liam growls as the others go to attack.

Maddox tries to save his food, but the fourth guy knocks it out of his hand.

Hayden jumps from the car, landing on the guy who is about to gang up on Liam.

“We’re going,” Ben orders. He drags me over to the passenger side door and ushers me inside his car.

I watch as Clay tries to drag Hayden away. When Ben closes his door, I turn to him. “Dude, we need to help them.”

“I’m pretty sure Clay and Mark can pull them off.”

“I don’t mean help the food destroyers. I mean we need to help my family,” I argue as he pulls out of the parking space. “Ben!”

He breaks sharply, and I have to hold on to the dashboard to stop myself from moving out of my seat.

He turns to me sharply, pointing. “Stay there. I mean it.”

I nod and watch as he gets out of the car. My lips part when he rips a guy off Mark like he weighs nothing before knocking out the one fighting Liam.

Hayden begins howling over the unconscious guy she’s standing over.

Amelia is shaking next to the car, but thankfully, Hope has her arm around her.

When I turn back to Ben, he’s handing over an unconscious Maddox to Liam. All the rest are in some sort of unconscious state or are rolling around on the ground. When Ben jabs a finger at Mark in some kind of warning and Mark steps back, taking it, I let out a breath.

My man is seriously fucking hot.

He hasn’t even broken a sweat.

He dusts off his jacket and makes his way back to the car. As the door closes, I say, “You need to teach me how to fight like you.”

He checks to see if I’m serious. “Maybe one day. But I’ve seen you in action. You don’t need to fight to take someone down. Although, you’d probably win if you did.”

I grin as I slide my belt on. “Thank you.”

“Your family are going to be a pain in my arse this entire trip, aren’t they?”

I lower my gaze. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“No. I would just rather get a heads up so I can prepare myself,” he states as he places his hand on my thigh.

“Then most likely, yeah.”

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