It’s all people we went to school with and a few curious onlookers.
One cop walks around and pulls my hands behind me, linking, caging me with metal handcuffs before hauling me up to my feet. This is a moment I never expected to happen to me.
A hand on my head as I’m stuffed into the back of the patrol car.
I look back to Kira. Her brow is furrowed, my phone clutched in her hand. I want to kiss the worry from her lips, but I have a feeling the next few days are going to be full of nothing but shit.
The cops enter the vehicle. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Austin being shoved into another car. Of course they wouldn’t put us in the same patrol car together. We’d probably fucking kill each other, even cuffed.
I focus on Kira again. The tears in her eyes kill me.
Fill me with hope.
I pray she can see how much I love her right now. I love her for not looking away from me during that fight, not even once. Love her for showing me how much she still cares by simply standing there, all of her defenses gone.
The cops talk among themselves, but I pay them no mind. It takes them a few minutes to start driving; I stare at Kira the entire time, and she doesn’t stop staring at me either.
Her heart’s breaking for me. She hates seeing me in this like this and it’s obvious in her expression.
Finally.
I’m finally getting the real her. The raw truth. It took this, but for the first time in a long time, I’m once again sure.
This girl still loves me.
She wouldn’t look at me the way she’s looking at me now if she didn’t.
I feel warm liquid leak down into my eye.
Blood.
Kira flinches, her eyes filling with tears.
The car pulls away from the movie theater, heading to the precinct. I crane my neck to keep her in my sight for as long as I can, my heart pumping wildly.
She still loves me. Fuck, she loves me.
I’m on my way to jail, and it does nothing to diminish the relief in my veins. I exhale slowly and let my head fall back on the headrest, my mind churning.
I hope she knows there’s no going back now. Not after what she just allowed me to see.
As soon as I’m a free man again, we’re going to finish this.
As soon as they let me out, I’m making her my girl once and for all, and there’s nothing that can stop me.
I want to scream. Break things. I want to tear out my own motherfucking hair.
My body is motionless. Incapable of moving. Signals fire off in my brain, commands sent to limbs that have no plans of responding.
Austin’s face was destroyed.
So was Brayden’s.
They almost killed each other, and it’s all my fault.
Most girls would be thrilled that two guys fought over them to that extent. I’m just sick to my stomach. On the verge of a panic attack. I’m worried for Austin.
But I’m fucking terrified for Brayden.
Is he okay? Oh God, he needs stitches. What if he gets a concussion? Austin had pounded into his ribs really bad. What if something was cracked? Are they taking him straight to the hospital for a checkup?
I can’t think straight. Can’t function.
“Kira!”
I recognize the voice calling out to me, but I don’t respond to it.
This is going to go on Brayden’s record. There’s no way it’s not. I don’t know enough about the law to even begin guessing how this is going to affect his future.
A hand lands on my shoulder, and I’m urged to turn around. It’s Ashley. She’s panting, blue eyes worried. Distantly, I wonder where the other girls are. I lost sight of them when Austin approached me.
“Are you okay?” Ashley asks me.
A sob catches in my throat and I shake my head. “M-my fault.”
She squeezes my shoulder. “What?”
“This is all my fault,” I whisper, trying to hold back the tears. My attitude pushed Brayden to this point. I should’ve been more upfront with Austin, done an even better job of pushing him away. Had I done so, he wouldn’t have come up to me today.
Had I been kinder to Brayden, he would’ve never felt threatened by Austin’s presence.
I pushed both of them to this point because I was too mentally fucked up to do right by either of them.
“Come on. I lost Lyn and Jenna in the crowd. We need to find them so Jenna can drive us to the precinct.” Ashley grabs my hand.
I’m thankful one of us has a clear head. Without her, I’d probably still be rooted to the same spot.
We walk a few feet through the crowd. I see Ashley looking around for the other girls; my mind still can’t focus past the back of her head. Brayden’s keys and phone are clutched tight in my hands, along with his broken glasses that I picked up off the ground during the fight. My hands are braced against my broken heart.
“There they are!” Ashley points at her sister about thirty feet away from us, and we head in that direction.
Is it me, or are most of the people we pass turning to stare at me? I know a lot of them, too. People both Brayden and I went to school with. Austin hadn’t been too discreet when hurling his accusations at Brayden. I wonder how much of that did these people hear.