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Killian has Aiden on the ground again, and when he punches him, he doesn’t hold back. Aiden grunts and blood flies off his face.
Sloane gasps beside me, covering her mouth. “Stop it! Stop this now!”
Since no one is listening to either of us, I turn around and push my way back through the crowd.
When I looked at all the tables, I remember seeing pitchers of ice water on each one.
I grab the nearest, fullest pitcher I can find, and force my way back through the crowd.
Then I throw cold water at the assholes still punching each other on the floor.
Killian stiffens, uttering a low, “Fuck,” as the icy drink pours down his back. He turns to glare at whoever did it, but then he sees it was me.
“Get off him,” I demand. Then, realizing we’re surrounded by his friends and considerate of his image, I add a softer, “Please.”
He meets my gaze and holds it, but then his gaze drops and his blue eyes turn to chips of ice. I realize I let go of my mantle, so I pull it closed, but not before Aiden, with a bloody smile, murmurs, “She looks good in that dress I picked out for her, doesn’t she?”
Goddammit.
I remember him saying the fear center in his brain was fucked up, but does he have a death wish? Because it’s starting to seem like he does.
Killian slams his fist into Aiden’s jaw, and Aiden grabs him by the lapels of his tux.
I can’t watch any more of this, so I cut in front of Sloane and make my way to Hex. He’s watching the fight, so if he notices me approach, I can’t tell. I grab his shoulder to get his attention.
His cool, blue-eyed gaze meets mine. “Enjoying tonight’s entertainment?”
“No,” I say, wide-eyed. “Don’t you have anything to say about this?”
He smirks faintly, looking down at my body enveloped in his mantle. “Your pussy must be as good as I suspected it would be.”
My face flushes.
Leaning closer, he murmurs conspiratorially, “Don’t tell Killian I said so. We don’t want him punching me in the face.”
“I don’t want him punching anyone in the face,” I mutter. “That’s why you should stop this.”
He glances back at the two guys on the ground. I was so distracted asking him to stop them, I didn’t realize they had already stopped. “No need,” he says, and gestures in that direction.
I follow his gaze and see Killian still straddling Aiden, looking down at him, but Aiden has relaxed and no longer seems to be expecting to be hit. Killian isn’t hitting him; he’s just sitting there with a bemused look on his face.
What did I miss?
I glance at the crowd, but no one else seems to know, either.
When I look back at Killian, he swipes the back of his hand across his mouth and climbs off Aiden.
Aiden exhales and sits up, then his gaze shoots directly to Sloane.
She glares at him, then turns and disappears into the crowd without even glancing in Killian’s direction.
Aiden gets up and heads into the crowd right after her.
Then it occurs to me, when we both stood at the edge of the crowd watching the fight, we were calling each other’s dates off instead of both of us yelling at Killian.
“Come on,” Killian says, grabbing my wrist before I can carry the thought any further.
I look up at him, wanting to yell at him, but also worried because he’s bleeding. “Are you okay?”
