Lordy be.
“Eric,” I said softly, trying to pul my arm free (and failing) and thinking I should defuse the already heated situation.
Again, I didn’t get the chance. Mace spoke before I could.
“I’l say it one more time, Turner. Hands off.”
“And I’l say it one more time, Mason. Fuck you,” Eric returned, yanking me toward his metal ic-granite-colored Chevy Trailblazer.
Shitsofuckit!
Before I knew what was happening or I could utter a word, both men moved.
Fast.
I was thrown free of Eric. There was a scuffle and Mace and Eric ended the scuffle face-to-face, fingers curled into each other’s tees.
“Stop it!” I shouted, rushing forward and shoving between their bodies to separate them (this failed too, for your information). Stil , my intervention kind of worked. They both pushed off with their hands, each taking a step back but they continued the stare down.
Effing men.
I opened my mouth to speak but, to my increasing frustration, Eric got there before me.
“I’m taking her into protective custody,” he announced.
Oh dear.
“The hel you are,” Mace shot back.
“You aren’t keepin’ her safe,” Eric returned.
“Yeah, and it’s safe standin’ out here f**kin’ dealin’ with you,” Mace snapped, throwing his arm out to the night to make his point.
Eric switched subjects. “She got shot at.”
“I know that,” Mace retorted.
“Again,” Eric pushed.
“I know that,” Mace repeated, visibly losing what was left of his patience.
“Pong nearly got his head blown off.” Eric kept at it and I wondered how he knew that but didn’t have a chance to process that either because Mace lost his patience.
Leaning toward Eric, he roared, “I f**king know that! ”
“I can keep her safe!” Eric shouted back.
“Yeah, like you kept Skinny Blackburn safe?” Mace returned, his tone shifting smoothly to quiet and dripping with sarcasm.
I blinked in confusion.
I blinked in confusion.
Skinny Blackburn? Who the ef was Skinny Blackburn?
I watched Eric wince and knew Mace scored a point.
Before I could butt in, Eric recovered and informed Mace, “I’l see to Stel a personal y.”