Page 46 of Detour

“She yours?” the whistler, I think, asks.

Coty opens his mouth to answer but I beat him to it with, “I’m nobody’s,” then frown realizing there’s more truth to that than anything I’ve ever said.

All eyes return to me. I keep mine on Coty though, wishing he’d see what I’m too nervous to tell him. His eyebrows dip but rapid movement to my right causes me to break our connection. I swing my back to the wall, facing the guy—again the whistler—as he advances.

“I’m Jason.”

His hand hangs between us. I glance from it to his face, letting the moment stretch until it’s awkward, for him anyway. I personally don’t mind. I don’t want to touch him. Plus, you can tell a lot by watching someone, especially when they’re uncomfortable.

I nod, then move to signal I’m leaving.

“Aww, it’s like that? No name for the beautiful girl?” he teases. Before I can see it, he reaches out, hooking a finger into one of the shredded slivers in my jeans.

I yank my leg out away from his obnoxious touch, scolding, “What the hell was that?”

“Leave her alone, J.” I hear Beckett warn above our heads but I don’t dare look away from Jason in front of me or the group behind him in my peripheral.

“Aww, come on. I’m just having some fun. Why does it matter?”

The whining is annoying. If I didn’t already find him unattractive, I definitely would now.

Beckett’s chuckle comes out sinister. “You’ll see.”

Then Coty is there causing everything—maybe even time—to freeze. He glances over to me with an unreadable expression before posting up in front of Jason, hands clenched at his sides.

“What the fuck don’t you get about ‘hands off’?”

Jason shifts, his eyes darting past Coty’s shoulder. Coty moves his head, blocking his view.

“She said she wasn’t yours. She’s free game then, right?” The crack in his voice gives away his nervousness. What he says next reveals his stupidity. “I was just going to offer her a drink. I thought we could go for a dip out back. Maybe the naked variety.” He laughs, looking to his boys who are watching with mounting apprehension as Jason blunders full speed ahead, completely oblivious.

Without warning, Coty’s fist connects with Jason’s nose, resulting in a sickening crunch my own sinuses feel. In a blur of motion, Coty lunges at Jason, aiming for a second hit, but everyone jumps into action, separating the two. Jason doubles over, howling in pain as his nose bleeds uncontrollably.

“You’re done. Don’t show here again.”

“What the fuck, man? What’s so fucking great about her anyway?”

Beckett calls down, “Yo, J, you heard him. You’re out.”

Jason throws his hands up, letting the blood flow freely. “First Tony, now me? You’re choosing this skank over your boys? Pussy better be fucking good if you’re going through this much trouble.”

Eyes widening, I open my mouth to tell this loser off but Coty lands another punch, this one across the jaw. Jason falls backward, ass meeting concrete in an almost comical slow-motion feat. Luckily for him, he stays there.

“Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back. I see you near her again and you’ll be cut from the races, too.”

My eyebrows lurch.

“You wouldn’t!”

“He would.”

I jump at the thunderous tone from the step above me. Marc stands with his arms across his chest, eyes fixed on the bleeding mess in front of him.

Jason squints up at the group gathered around and jerks a nod. Some help him stand but others shoulder past, returning to the apartment, not one looking my way.

Coty, tightly coiled and unmoving, watches silently as Jason makes his way to a nearby car with help from a friend. His back tenses waiting for them to leave. Only when the car’s out of sight does he breathe fully, turning to look at me. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Beckett smiling before he goes back inside.

The stairwell finally empty, I study Coty as he slowly approaches, eyes locked on mine the entire time.