A Shattered Moment (Fractured Lives 1)

I grabbed his arm and twirled him around just as my clenched fist smashed him squarely in the jaw. He staggered backward, falling on his ass.

“How’s it feel, dickhead?” I growled, standing over him and ready to hit him again if he stood.

One of his friends jumped to his aid. “What the fuck, man?” He shoved me in the chest. I raised my hands, ready to throw down if he stepped forward. The crowd circled us, feeling the tension in the air. They watched eagerly, waiting to see who would be the next one to throw a punch. Nothing got a bunch of students hyped up like a fight.

Two guys in yellow security shirts pushed their way into the crowd, jumping between us to calm the situation. After a stare-off and some finger-pointing, the incident dissipated rather quickly, much to the dismay of some of the onlooking crowd. They expressed their disappointment that no further blows were exchanged. A few more security workers showed up and they assessed Mac’s condition, asking if she needed medical help. I gave them my credentials, assuring them I could take care of her. After quietly telling me they would have reacted the same way, we all parted ways.

“Are you okay?” I asked Mac, kneeling beside her. Her eyes were as big as saucers.

“I can’t believe you hit him.” She looked shocked and angry with me like I’d done something wrong.

“Yeah, well, I can’t believe he knocked you down. He was a total asshole.”

“I get knocked into all the time. Maybe not like this by some drunken jockstrap who didn’t even know what he was doing.” She declined taking my hand to help her up, but realized quickly she had no choice. It was hard enough under normal conditions for her to stand from a sitting position. Scraped knees and hands definitely didn’t help. I took her under the arm and she grudgingly accepted, wincing as we raised her to her feet. Her face was red, probably as much from anger at me as embarrassment. “You can’t punch everyone who misses this,” she added, holding up her cane with disgust.

“He was a prick, plain and simple. Maybe next time he’ll be more considerate of people.” I’d probably overreacted. Okay, I definitely overreacted. Seeing Mac lying in a bleeding heap on the sidewalk sent me over the edge. Especially since if I’d had a better hold of her, she may not have fallen so badly.

“So, now it’s your job to protect me?” she huffed, heading down the sidewalk and leaving me behind. She looked like a wreck, but in her determination limped along with purpose.

“Mac, come on. I couldn’t let him get away with it,” I said through clenched teeth, catching up to her easily.

She whirled around in anger, catching me off guard. “Look, Bentley, in case you missed it, I don’t like attention on me. This cane and my damn gimpy limp make it pretty hard to stay inconspicuous. Having some guy I’m dating punch out another guy is not inconspicuous.”

Despite the circumstances, I felt the stirrings of desire. She was pissed as hell, but damn if she didn’t look sexy. I don’t know what kind of asshole that made me, but I couldn’t help it.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” She paused in her tirade.

“Like what?” I asked, surprised. I guess I didn’t have much of a poker face.

“Like I’m amusing you,” she said with more aggravation.

“I can’t help it. You’re cute when you’re mad.”

sixteen

Mac

“Cute?” He seriously did not just call me cute. He punches a guy and then has the nerve to downplay my anger? I clenched my own fist, tempted to throw my own punch. Anything to knock the grin off his face.

“I would say adorable, but I’m guessing that would have been pushing it,” he teased.

“Don’t do that, okay? I’m pissed. Don’t think you can get mad enough to hit someone and that’s justified, but then dismiss my anger as cute. You don’t seem to understand that makes me feel like you don’t care about my feelings.”

“Shit,” he said, exhaling. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” His smile turned to a frown as he looked down at the dried blood covering my torn jeans. “Do you need to sit down?” he asked, indicating the low wall behind me.

“No, and I don’t feel like standing in the middle of the sidewalk arguing about it with my knees throbbing. I just want to get to my dorm and then I’ll take care of them,” I said, limping forward.

“We’re closer to my apartment. Let’s go there and I’ll clean them up.”

I wanted to argue, especially since I was still mad, but he reasoned that he had everything we would need to clean me up, and was trained to do it. I grudgingly agreed. He was right that his apartment was closer. My embarrassment over the whole situation dissipated as we walked. My friends and I had always stuck up for each other, but no guy I’d ever known had punched someone to defend my honor. I was being completely mental, but I found it a bit flattering now that a large crowd of people wasn’t looking at us. The fall itself had been mortifying. I know it wasn’t my fault, but taking a dive in front of the guy you liked was not my idea of fun.

As usual, Bentley carried me up the stairs to his apartment. My knees, which had moved beyond throbbing to downright pain, nearly wept in relief when he scooped me up in his arms. When we reached his landing, he didn’t pause to set me down. Instead, he continued to his apartment. I thought about complaining, but it felt so good to be off my feet.

Chad was playing Xbox when Bentley pushed the front door open, holding me in his arms. He looked up when we entered, cutting his greeting short at the sight of my knees.

“What the hell did you do to her?” He glared at Bentley as he jumped off the couch. Despite my embarrassment, I couldn’t help smiling at his reaction.

“I didn’t do this, dumb-ass. Some jerk-off knocked her down in front of the arena,” Bentley answered, depositing me on the couch carefully like I was delicate china.