I found the pair about halfway down the alley standing near a side exit door for one of the buildings.
Thankfully, Remy wasn’t on his knees, but that didn’t do much to take away from my fury.
Because the guy had Remy pressed up against the wall and was grinding his crotch against Remy’s. He was speaking softly to Remy so I couldn’t hear, but one look at Remy’s face and I instinctively knew what those words included. Remy’s hands were pressed against his sides, his hands fisted. He looked pale and shaky, but when the much bigger guy reached for one of his hands and pulled it toward his own crotch, Remy didn’t resist.
I used every ounce of rage and guilt I’d been feeling for the past seven days to grab the man’s hand before he could force Remy to touch him. I wrenched the beefy arm hard, causing the man to scream in pain and drop to his knees.
“What the fu—” was all the guy managed to get out as I twisted his wrist, causing it to snap. He screamed in agony, but his cry was muffled when I slammed my knee up into his face. Blood spurted from his broken nose.
“Luca, what the hell?” Remy called from somewhere behind me, but I ignored him. I punched the asshole at my feet repeatedly until pain from my knuckles began to finally permeate the agony that ate at my insides.
“Jesus, Luca, stop!” Remy yelled. I was dimly aware of him hanging on to my left arm, but all that meant was that I needed to be more creative in how I made the fucker pay for every hurt that had ever been inflicted on Remy’s innocent mind and body.
It wasn’t until Remy pushed himself between me and the man and shoved me hard that I finally was forced to stop. Released from the grip I’d had on his hair, the moaning, bloody man fell to the ground. Remy walked me backward with surprising strength. My back hit the wall behind me.
“What the fuck?” Remy shouted as he looked over his shoulder at the guy writhing on the dirty ground.
“No one touches you like that ever again, do you hear me?” I yelled right back before I could consider my words. My body was still itching for a fight because the pain that made my chest feel tight was starting to come back. All I could see was that man’s hand on Remy’s and then the image shifted to eight years earlier when it’d been my hand on Remy. When it’d been my fingers closing around his slim arm and pulling him to his feet even as he’d cried and begged me not to hurt him.
I pulled free of Remy’s hold so I could go after the guy again, but Remy practically got into my face.
“I need him, you asshole!” he bit out.
“No, you don’t! I’ll help you, Remy. I swear it. Money, rehab, whatever you need—”
“Information!” Remy cut in. “I need fucking information, you dick!”
His words cut off mine. “Wh-what?” I stammered.
At some point Remy’s fingers had closed around the front of my dress shirt. I’d left the top button open and during the melee, probably when he’d grabbed me, the next button had torn off. So Remy’s closed fist was actually pressing against my skin rather than the expensive fabric. He and I seemed to become aware of that fact at the same time because we both ended up looking down like we were trying to figure out what was happening.
I had no clue what Remy was feeling, but electricity was firing beneath my own skin and heat pooled throughout my entire body… and settled in my groin. It took everything in me not to make a sound or even take a breath as Remy stared at where we were momentarily connected. I swore I felt his hand soften so he could rub his knuckles up and down, but the moment was so fleeting I couldn’t be sure.
Remy yanked his hand away and took a few steps back.
His eyes lifted to meet mine. His breaths came in sharp, harsh pants. He looked as confused as I felt. Before I could say or do anything, he turned on his heel and moved to crouch next to the man I’d beaten the crap out of.
“Where is she, Taz?” he asked.
The man on the ground moaned, then muttered, “Fuck you, you little bitch,” before spitting a mouthful of blood in Remy’s direction.
“Taz, she’s just a—”
The man lunged for Remy with his good arm, grabbing his elbow. Remy winced as the bloody fingers bit down on his flesh. I was moving almost instantly, but by the time I reached the pair, Remy had twisted the man’s thumb back until he was yelping with pain.
“Where is she?” Remy screamed, the distress in his voice clear. It was exactly the ammunition the guy on the ground needed. He rolled onto his back and in between moans, he let out a wet-sounding chuckle.