The Longest Ride(16)

Despite the occasional slurring, he sounded almost credible. Almost. “You don’t get it, do you?” She wondered if he honestly thought she’d forgive him. “I know I don’t have to avoid you. I want to avoid you.”



He stared at her, plainly confused. “Why are you acting like this?”



“Are you kidding?”



“After you broke up with me, I knew I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. Because I need you. You’re good for me. You make me a better person. And even if we can’t be together, I’d like to think we could get together and talk sometime. Just talk. The way we used to. Before I screwed things up.”



She opened her mouth to reply, but his bravado left her speechless. Did he really think she’d fall for this again?



“Come on,” he said, reaching for her hand. “Let’s get a drink and talk. We can work through this —”



“Don’t touch me!” Her voice rang out sharply.



“Sophia…”



She slid farther down the railing, away from him. “I said don’t touch me!”



For the first time, she glimpsed a flash of anger in his expression as he lunged for her wrist. “Calm down…”



She yanked her arm, trying to free it. “Let go of me!”



Instead, he drew close enough for her to smell the stale beer on his breath. “Why do you always have to make such a scene?” he demanded.



As she struggled to break free, she looked up at him and felt a cold blade of fear. This wasn’t a Brian she recognized. His brow was furrowed, almost wrinkled, his jaw ropy and distended. She froze, leaning away from his hot, labored breath. Later, she would recall only how paralyzed with fear she was, until she heard the voice behind her.



“You need to let her go,” the voice said.



Brian looked over and back to her again, squeezing harder. “We’re just talking,” he said, his teeth clenched, the muscle in his jaw flexing.



“It doesn’t look like you’re just talking to me,” the voice said. “And I’m not asking you to let her go. I’m telling you.”



There was no mistaking the warning in the tone, but unlike the adrenaline-charged exchanges she’d sometimes witnessed at the frat houses, this stranger’s voice sounded calm.



It was a beat before Brian even registered the threat, but he clearly wasn’t intimidated. “I’ve got it handled. Why don’t you mind your own business?”



“Last chance,” came the voice. “I don’t want to have to hurt you. But I will.”



Too nervous to turn around, Sophia couldn’t help noticing bystanders outside the barn beginning to turn their way. From the corner of her eye, she watched two men rise from the tractor tire and start toward them; another pair pushed off a section of the railing, their hats shadowing their faces as they approached.



Brian’s bloodshot eyes flickered toward them, then he glared over Sophia’s shoulder at the man who had just spoken. “What? You calling in your friends now?”



“I don’t need them to deal with you,” the stranger said, his voice even.



At the comment, Brian pushed Sophia aside, releasing the viselike grip on her arm. He turned and took a step toward the voice. “You seriously want to do this?”



When she turned, it was easy to understand the reason for Brian’s swagger. Brian was six and a half feet tall and over two hundred pounds; he worked out at the gym five times a week. The guy who’d threatened him was more than half a foot shorter and wiry; he wore a cowboy hat, though it had definitely seen better days.



“Go along now,” the cowboy said, backing up a step. “There’s no reason to make this any worse.”



Brian ignored him. With surprising speed, he lunged toward the smaller man, his arms wide, intending to take him down. She recognized the move, had watched Brian flatten countless people on the lacrosse field, and knew exactly what was going to happen: He’d lower his head and drive hard with his legs, felling the other man like an axed tree. And yet… while Brian did just what she’d expected, it didn’t end the way she’d seen it happen before. As Brian closed in, the man kept one leg in place as he leaned to the opposite side, his arms sweeping as he used Brian’s momentum to throw him off balance. A moment later, Brian was facedown in the dirt with the smaller man’s scuffed cowboy boot on the back of his neck.



“Just calm down, now,” the cowboy said.



Brian began to struggle beneath the boot, preparing to push himself up, but with a quick hop – while still keeping one boot planted firmly on Brian’s neck – the cowboy’s other foot slammed down on Brian’s fingers, then quickly moved aside. On the ground, Brian retracted his hand and screamed while the boot on his neck pressed down even harder.