Page 25 of Fractured Ice

The guy says something to Sienna and she shakes her head and takes a step sideways. He steps with her, and I put my drink down.

I watch for another two minutes. The guy's hand goes to her back and she doesn't react to it the way she would sober, the way she'd react to anything she didn't want. He steers her toward the front of the house, and something about the whole thing is wrong in a way that has me alert and moving toward them.

Outside, the porch is mostly empty. The guy has Sienna at the bottom of the steps with his hand on her arm and he's talking to her about his car, I catch the word, and Sienna is nodding in the vague way of someone who isn't fully processing what they're agreeing to.

"Hey," I say, from the top of the steps.

The guy looks up. He's got a few inches on me and the attitude of someone who doesn't think I’m going to be a problem.

"We're good," he says.

"I wasn't asking you." I come down the steps. "Sienna?"

She turns. Her eyes are glassy, and it takes her a second to find my face, and then when she does something in her expression loosens with relief. "Ethan." She says it like she's been holding onto a breath.

"Come here."

"She's fine," the guy says, stepping slightly in front of her. "We're heading out."

"She's not going anywhere with you," I say very carefully.

"I don't think that's your call."

Sienna's hand finds my arm. "Don't let me go with him," she says. It comes out slurred and small and absolutely clear. "Ethan. Don't."

That's it. That's the only thing I need.

I move her behind me with one hand and look at the guy, and whatever's on my face makes him take a step back before he’s even had time to think about why.

"Walk away," I say.

"This doesn't involve you."

"She just asked me not to let her leave with you. It involves me."

He looks me over, doing the math, and apparently decides the math works in his favor because he steps forward and shoves me in the chest. Hard.

I don't step back.

I hit him first, right hand, clean across his jaw. He goes sideways into the porch railing and knocks half of it over on his way down. I think that's it. Then he gets up.

He's bigger than he looked from across the party and he comes back angrier, getting a fist into my ribs before I can fully turn, and I feel it, a dull crack of impact that's going to be a bruise by morning. He grabs my hoodie with both hands but I drive my elbow into his nose. Something crunches and blood goes everywhere, and he drops.

He stays down for about four seconds. Then he's up again, spitting, one hand pressed to his face, and punches me in the shoulder, which knocks me back, then swings wide. I duck it and get him in the stomach, and when he doubles forward I bring my knee up and he goes back down to the grass, hard this time, landing on his side.

"Stay there," I say.

He doesn't.

He gets one hand under himself and pushes up but he's slower now, blood dripping off his chin onto the grass. He's still coming and I hit him again in the face, twice. The second one snaps his head back and he sits down in the grass and doesn't get up. Doesn’t even twitch or moan.

My hand is throbbing. I can feel my ribs on the right side where he got me. I stand there for a second breathing through it, and then Knox is at my elbow, looking down at the guy on the grass and then at my face, and for once he doesn't say anything. On the porch, I notice movement, and a couple girls bolt back inside the house.

Whatever.

I turn around and Sienna is still standing there, looking at the guy on the grass and then at me, and her expression is something I can't entirely read in the dark.

"Okay," I say. "Let's get you home."