Easy

started gushing. I had never seen so much blood so close-up. It poured out of him as though I’d opened a faucet full-blast.
    Left hand free .
    He was listing to the side. Still yanking up on his balls, I raised my left knee and turned into him, shoving his shoulder with my left hand. He fell sideways into the cramped crevice in front of my truck’s bench seat. The feeling rushed back into my legs, tremors wracking through me, and I went for the door, shoving it open so violently that it almost bounced all the way back.
    Just before I cleared the door, his right hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, like the never-quite-dead psycho in a horror movie. I spun and smashed my fist down on the sensitive spot on his upper forearm, inches down from his the crook of his arm, and he released me, bellowing angrily and attempting to flail himself into an upright position.
    I didn’t wait to see if he succeeded. I vaulted from my truck and ran.
    This would have been an ideal time to scream, but I could barely gasp breaths. I heard his footsteps pounding unevenly behind me and I focused on Lucas’s door at the top of those steps. I was halfway down the driveway when Buck lunged from behind and grabbed at my hair, yanking me to a stop painfully. I yelped as we went down, immediately turning onto my side as Lucas had taught me, dislodging him.
    Suddenly, Lucas was there. Like a dark avenging angel, he yanked Buck away from me and threw him, and then installed himself between us. I scrambled backwards, crab-like. He spared me one glance, his colorless eyes flaring in the dim light cast by the flood lights at the side of the house, before he turned back to Buck, who’d rolled to his feet. Blood coated the space between his nose and mouth and was smeared on his chin, but there was little on him aside from that.
    A second floodlight at the corner of the house popped on, illuminating the scene.
    Panting, I glanced down at my chest and started. My pink and white knit shirt was stained dark from the neckline to the top of my belly. Because of our positions when I’d slammed Buck’s nose, my chest had caught the majority of blood that gushed from his face.
    I battled the urge to rip my shirt off in the Heller’s front yard.
    Crouching, he tried to circle Lucas. Rather than turn with him, Lucas moved sideways, remaining with his back to me, blocking Buck from getting any closer to me.
    Buck’s voice was a gruff snarl. “I’m gonna bust that lip wide open, emo-boy. I’m not fucked up this time. I’m stone-cold sober, and I’m gonna kick your ass before I fuck your little whore nine ways from Sunday—again.”
    Lying bastard .
    Lucas didn’t rush him, and didn’t respond at first, and then I heard his very controlled voice. “You’re mistaken, Buck .” Never shifting his eyes from him, Lucas unzipped his leather jacket, shrugged it off and tossed it aside. As he shoved the sleeves of the dark long-sleeved t-shirt above his elbows, I noted the worn jeans he’d pulled on earlier and the shit-kicker cowboy boots he grabbed when he was in a hurry, because they didn’t require the time-suck that lacing his black combat boots involved.
    Buck threw a wide punch and Lucas blocked it. He tried again with the same result, and then rushed forward to pin Lucas in a hold. One kidney punch and left ear cuff later, and Buck staggered to the side, pointing at me. “Bitch. Think you’re too good for me—but you’re nothing but a whore .”
    Lucas tracked him, staying between us. When Buck jabbed, Lucas grabbed his forearm and turned, wrenching Buck’s arm in a direction arms aren’t meant to go before turning him to deliver a quick uppercut to the jaw. Buck’s head rotated so far he was almost looking backward over his shoulder. He turned back and Lucas snapped another blow straight into his lip. Holding his defensive stance and cocking his head once to each side, Lucas’s ghost smile took on a menace it didn’t imply when he turned it on me.
    Buck roared and lunged forward, and they went down. Height-wise, they were evenly matched. Weight-wise, Buck had a clear forty or fifty pound advantage, and he used it to pin Lucas, punching him in the side of the head twice before Lucas twisted, tossing Buck onto the top of his skull. Flopping onto his back, Buck shook his head twice, like he was trying to clear it.
    Lucas tackled him, held him down, and slugged him four times in quick succession. The sound made me think of dad texturing