your hood, it’ll be to do more than deliver a fucking speech,” I say through gritted teeth.
My words draw a humorless laugh from him. “I hear you,” he says, nodding his head.
He takes a few steps away, but I keep my eyes trained on him. I can spot a loose cannon from a mile away and he definitely fits the bill. But still, even watching him like a hawk, I miss my chance to duck when he comes at me with a quick right-hook. I counter the blow before the stinging in my lip even starts, slamming my fist into the side of his face with the same fury. He doesn’t even stumble, instead cocking back a second time as I’m recovering from the swing. He connects again and the taste of blood isn’t as easy to ignore this time, but adrenaline has me numb.
We exchange blows, one after the other. He’s quick and he’s got one hell of a nasty jab, but speed means nothing if your feet aren’t planted firmly.
I manage to put just enough space between us to tackle him, grappling with him a few seconds before taking him down to the cold, stiff grass. I thought I’d pin him easy, but not even close. What he lacks in footing he more than makes up for in strength. By the time I finally draw my fist, I’m yanked back. Dane positions himself in front of me, creating a barrier between me and Ricky, who’s back on his feet freakishly fast.
“Take your fucking hands off me!” My rage isn’t focused anymore. Instead, it’s spewing from me like a geyser.
“And let you piss away what’s left of your reputation? Not happening,” Sterling answers with strained words, tightening the bearhug he’s holding me in.
Dane’s got eyes on Ricky when he asks, “We good here?”
“Fuck you,” Ricky snaps, swiping a trickle of blood from his lip. “We won’t be ‘good here’ until your bitch-ass brother pays for that shit he pulled.”
Dane manages to keep his cool, but even he has his limits. Seeing his breathing deepen as he stands before me, I know those limits are being tested.
“Walk away now and we can pretend this never happened.” He glances back, assessing my face before doing the same to Ricky. “Looks like you both whooped on each other pretty good, so I’d say that’s fair.”
“Is it fair that a little girl got jumped so bad she had to hide in a bathroom today? All because your brother thought it’d be funny to post that fucking video?” A bright red streak flies from his mouth when he spits blood into the grass.
I’m only confused for a second about what he just said, because my next thought is of that frantic call Southside got during lunch. The one that accounted for her rushing off to Scarlett’s rescue.
Damn…
All the fight is suddenly drained out of me, hearing yet another layer of damage I’ve caused. I only officially met the kid once, but she kind of grew on me. Partly because I’m fascinated with the dynamic between her and Southside.
“Who jumped her?”
“Does it matter?” Ricky snaps, swiping the keys to his bike from where they landed in the grass while we went at it. “Point is, that shit’s on you, dickhead.”
I don’t disagree with him. Not at all, but I do need to know more. Seeing as how I’ll never get a word of this out of Southside.
“I’m trying to fix it,” I admit, knowing the words could make me look weak in this moment. The rush of testosterone still surging through me after the fight keeps the hard edges of my voice intact, but I’m not even interested in rushing him again. Sterling doesn’t seem to be buying it, though, seeing as how he still has me in a death grip.
Ricky meets my gaze and I feel the same measure of hatred I got from Southside earlier, which is saying a whole fucking lot. It also leans into my theory that whatever he felt for her in the past is far from over.
“You’re trying to fix it,” he mostly says to himself, glancing down at the ground as he turns to walk away. “Don’t bother, man. I’ll look after Blue, like I always do.”
I bite my lip where it aches to hide how much I hate that shit, the idea of him being anywhere near her.
“Just go back to Daddy’s palace and swim in your pool of gold coins or whatever the hell you do