My insides clenched, sending the age-old warning that they were about to rebel. Nausea burned up my esophagus. I wasn’t that drunk, but I hadn’t eaten much all day and the wine was irritating the hell out of my stomach. I stumbled out of the car and over to the gutter, doubling over. I heaved a couple times but managed to keep the contents of my stomach—although at this point, getting rid of it all might have made me feel better.
As soon as I straightened up, Jon was beside me again. He had a couple books in his hand, holding them out to me. “I’m super sorry, Mia. I feel bad. You want to borrow a couple of my books to help you catch up?”
I eyed the books. They were expensive study aids that I couldn’t afford. They’d be useful. They swam in my unsteady vision and I reached out for them and managed to grab one of them, but he pulled the rest aside. “Let me put them in the car. And then come in and I’ll fix you some coffee.”
“No—I’m good. I’m getting a ride.”
He took me by the arm. “Come on. I don’t want you to try to drive home.”
I pulled back against his hold. “I’m not going to. Someone’s coming to get me. Stop pulling me around or I’ll puke on you.”
His grip tightened and he bared his teeth, yanking at my arm. “Mia, stop being so stubborn. Just let me take care of you.” His grip tightened painfully.
“You’re hurting me—let go!” My heartbeat raced in my eardrums and I grew dizzy with a sudden fear. What was this asshole trying to do? What did he want from me?
I swung the book in my hand and cracked it over his head. He spun on me with a hiss. “What the fuck, bitch?” He raised his free hand as if to hit me and I pulled back against his hold with all of my strength, falling on my butt, raising a hand to shield my face. My fall pulled him, still gripping my arm, to loom over me.
Images of that night with Zack up on the Ridge replaced Jon’s threat of violence. I’d had blood on my face, but he didn’t care. It ran down my chin, into my mouth—that bitter metallic taste mixed with my salty tears. No!
I pulled back, trying to get away from him. “Let me the fuck go!”
I turned to run, to scream, call out to the street. Those fuzzy spots were forming at the edge of my vision again and I could tell I’d be panicking a lot more if I wasn’t so slowed by the wine. For that I was grateful.
Right at that moment, Adam pulled up to the curb behind my car. His gaze was fixed on me and then on Jon. He’d seen the entire thing.
He was out of his car in a split second and moved so fast he was a blur. I could see the former track star in all his glory. In seconds, he was between us.
“Back off and let her go!” Adam ordered.
“I’m helping her. She’s going to drive off drunk,” Jon slurred. I yanked against his hold. It was as tight as ever.
Adam grabbed Jon’s free arm and twisted it up behind his back. Jon doubled over, yelping in pain. “I said. Let. Her. Go.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Jon screeched, yanking his hand away from my arm as if he’d burned himself. I fell back against the ground, rubbing where he’d grabbed me.
“You all right?” Adam called to me. I didn’t say anything, rocking, holding myself, trying to get the panic to subside. “Emilia—”
“I’m okay.” I finally said, looking up at him. His gaze on me grew intent and he shifted his hold on Jon.
“Apologize to her, fucktard.”
“What the—agh!” he yelped in pain when Adam tightened his grip on the arm. “I’m sorry—I’m sorry!”
Adam let Jon go and stepped back. Jon spun, widening his stance as if he wanted to start something. Adam stood his ground, eyes locked on Jon—giving him a “mad dog” stare, as we’d called it in school.
“What the hell were you doing, trying to get her drunk?” he growled through clenched teeth.
“Dude, I was just refilling her cup.”
“Adam, let’s go,” I said, now worried that he wasn’t going to stand down.
Adam’s hands curled into fists at his sides. He had at least four inches and about thirty pounds on Jon. “You pull that shit again, I’m gonna fuck you up.”
True fear crossed Jon’s features. He wavered, looking unsure.
Adam took a step forward. “Don’t ever touch her again, got it?”
Jon’s face flushed a violent shade of red. He shifted to a more threatening stance. “What are you, her fuckin’ boyfriend? She doesn’t like men, you know.”
Adam failed to look intimidated by the show. He moved up to Jon and got in his face. “She likes men just fine. Maybe she doesn’t like you because you’re an asshole.”