by Amy Freeman
Trin opened the door for both girls, and then slid into the driver’s seat.
“I can’t believe how good you are,” Anna said. “You just shine up there.”
Trin turned to Sam. “She’s right. You’re beautiful.”
“You need to transcend,” Anna said. “Leave this college stuff behind and go join a big New York company...no, wait.” She said. “That would take you from me so never mind.”
Sam laughed. “You could move with me.”
“I’m not moving to New York.”
“Hey,” Trin said. “How about we go to a party?” He turned the key in the ignition. “No one is moving to New York tonight.” He checked his rearview mirror, then turned to back out. “Anna, do you need to stop at the dorm for anything?”
“I have everything I need at Vig’s.”
Trin nodded and pulled out of the parking lot.
A large crowd gathered in front of the dance building, people discussing the showcase, talking with the dancers, and making their way to the parking lot. From the center of the crowd a stranger emerged, watching them drive away—soft black hair fringing a stern face, scintillating jade green eyes locked in on the departing vehicle.
“I beat the penguin at beer pong.”
Chris came staggering out of Vig’s house. Trin had just pulled up to the party and was opening the door to get out when his intoxicated roommate appeared out of nowhere, cheering victory and dragging with him a gigantic stuffed penguin, nearly his size. Trin climbed out of the truck and opened the door to the backseat for Anna, who was already doubled over laughing. “Couldn’t find a date, huh, Chris?” Trin moved to the opposite side of the truck to open Sam’s door.
Anna climbed out. Chris came forward, tripping all over the giant plush toy in a struggle to complete the three steps it took to reach her. Swaying back and forth, he lifted the penguin’s right fin.
“I beat the penguin.”
“Yes,” she said, patting the penguin’s head. “You make a lovely couple. Go have another beer.”
“Heeeey...” A sweet, familiar voice rang out from the porch. Vig jogged up to Anna, wrapping his arms around her. “I’ve missed you, babe,” he said, squeezing her to him. “It’s like eleven o’ clock already.” He turned to Sam. “How long they make you dance for, girl?”
Sam smiled.
He jerked his chin at Trin, grinning from ear to ear. “How’s it goin’, bro?”
“It’s goin’,” Trin smiled. They all looked down at Chris, who was now on the ground using the penguin as a bed.
Trin glanced sideways at Vig. “Wanna give me a hand?”
Vig laughed. “With him or the penguin?”
Trin shook his head. They reached down, grabbing him under the shoulders and pulled him off the penguin.
“Let’s see if we can’t find you somethin’ better inside, bro,” Vig chuckled. He turned to Trin. “This guy swimming for you guys tomorrow?”
Anna reached down and grabbed the giant bird. “Poor penguin,” she said. “Let’s go see if we can’t find something better for you inside. This penguin has been violated,” she declared as they walked toward the house.
Trin and Vig hoisted Chris through the door and into the crowded chaos. The party was in full swing. Random students slapped Chris on the back and in the head as Trin and Vig dragged him through the rooms. Pulsing music resonated through the walls as half the campus swarmed the property, inside and out. Trin and Vig found an empty couch and deposited Chris.
Trin grinned up at Vig. “Thanks man.”
“No problem,” Vig beamed. “You want a drink or something?”
“No, I’m good.”
With another glance at Chris, Vig shook his head and laughed. “Good luck with that.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Vig went to find Anna as Trin assessed the environment—loud. Everyone was hammered. He cast a glance at Sam. You don’t belong here. He kept the thought to himself as he watched her socializing with some girls she knew. Just then, further down the hall, a familiar energy caught his attention. Erika...standing at her side—Ryan, as he expected. It didn’t surprise him. Just made him sad and even more intent on taking Sam and leaving. With a deep breath he smiled in Sam’s direction, making his way to her side.
Her friends saw him coming.
“Damn,” one said.
“Seriously,” said another. Reaching Sam’s side he lowered his head, and took her hand. “You doin’ okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, confused at his sudden concern. “Are you?”
He looked around. “Not really my scene.”
Sam cracked a smile. “I know,” she said, “just an appearance.”
Trin nodded.
Sam introduced her friends. “This is Eva and Amber,” she said. “Guys, this is—”
“Trin Kosolov,” the blonde said. “We know who he is.” She gazed up at him. “You’re amazing,” she swooned, tipsy from two hours at the party.
Trin’s beautiful eyes glinted as he rested a hand on the small of Sam’s back. “Thank you.”
She moved closer...too close. “What was it like winning all those Olympic medals?”
Trin’s brow furrowed. “Are you here with anyone?”
She smiled as her alcohol level disabled her ability to catch the real intent of the question. “Not yet...”
Sam put a hand up. “Okay, Eva, that’s enough.”
Eva disregarded Sam and moved closer still. “Relax, Sam. You don’t own him,” she slurred.
Sam flared. “Excuse me?”
Amber put a hand on Eva’s arm. “Come on, Eva.”
Sam stepped in front of Trin, facing Eva head on. Trin tried to rein her in, but she shook him off.
“Well, you don’t,” Eva quipped, scanning Trin’s streamlined body starting from his stunning face and drifting downward from there. “He’s got too much to offer.”
A gleaming flash torched Sam’s eyes. A Russian curse sounded from behind her as Eva did a double take, shrinking backward, trying to reconcile what she had seen. Sam was aware of nothing in the room but Eva.
Trin went against his nature, taking her firmly by the arms.
With a lurch, the earth beneath the house shifted.
Another Russian curse and Sam was over Trin’s shoulder, being toted down the hallway and out of the house.
“What are you doing, Trin? I’m not finished!”
“You’re finished.”
“Where are we going?” she demanded. “We told Vig we would make a solid appearance!”
“We did,” he replied. “Very solid.” He continued through the doorway, shaking his head. Outside, among the massive crowd of partying students, he descended the front steps with Sam over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Setting her down, he pulled her to the side away from the others, Sam still engaged in heated protest. “Were you just in there with me?” she shrieked. “I’m not going to—
Trin took her by the arms, fixing her in a stern gaze. “You feel that?” he asked.
“Feel what?”
“All that anger, vengeance, rage,” he said. “Soak it up and get to know it because that is what we fight against.”
Sam paused, as Trin’s powerful words flushed out the poison and filled her with truth.
His light eyes held her a moment longer, and he let go, straightening up. “There are two types of anger,” he said. “Justified anger is simply knowing the difference between right and wrong and doing something about it. You see someone who needs help and you help them without judgment, without hate.” He held her gaze, lowering his head. “Rage, what you’re feeling now, is destructive. You want to race in there and destroy that girl. Her words and actions have nothing to do with you, Sam,” he said. “She isn’t fighting with you, she’s fighting herself. Her words are nothing more than an external display of her own inner conflict. It’s a projection; an outward show of her inner chaos. You can’t retaliate against that. You have discernment, Sam,
the ability go deeper and read what really propels a person’s behavior. Use it.”
Sam stared at the grass. Trin rested a hand on her shoulder, pushing her hair from her face. “You might be in the way when someone else’s issues come up, and you might get hit, but it isn’t about you. We are all stumbling through life, experiencing and working our paths. Sometimes we collide. Separate yourself from her inner chaos. It has nothing to do with you.”
Sam took in a deep breath, looking into his beautiful eyes, awed by his wisdom. He took her face in his hands.
“That feeling,” he said, “that ugly, dark venom you felt in there...whenever that comes, recognize it for what it is and do not cater to it. You know where it comes from now, Sam. You’ve seen him. What we put out there, fuels him. Our actions, words, even our thoughts create living energy for him to use against us...with crippling consequences...and you can’t ever take it back.”
Trin and Sam were ripped from the moment as everyone in the yard heard a loud crash. Trin jerked around with radar-like precision. Everyone looked toward the door, but Trin was locked on a second story window. Releasing Sam, he made a beeline for the porch, Sam right behind him.
“Trin what is it?”
They raced through the door, dashing up the staircase, Trin taking the stairs two at a time, locked in a zone. Dread filled the pit of Sam’s stomach. She wasn’t six foot three and muscle bound. She could not hoist him over her shoulder and force him to leave.
They reached the top of the stairs, Trin’s massive frame launching down the hallway toward a bedroom door. A man’s voice could be heard yelling and screaming on the other side.
With hinge shattering force, Trin blasted the door open. The scene before them confirmed his fear. Ryan Overton had Erika pinned against the wall by her throat—her body so tiny next to his mammoth posture. Blood dripped down the side of her face from a healthy cut on her head and a broken lamp lay on the floor. Ryan’s head snapped toward the opening door, but he hit the floor before catching sight of his attacker.
Within seconds Trin broke Ryan’s hold around Erika’s throat, pinning him to the carpet. Ryan lay on his back stunned, Trin’s sizable thigh pressing a knee into Ryan’s chest, his forearm at his throat. The hallway filled with onlookers, everyone in disbelief at what they had just seen. Trin was big, but Ryan Overton was huge, the most powerful linebacker on the football team.
Ryan wrestled to overcome Trin’s hold. But every attempt was blocked. Ryan could not get out from underneath Trin’s lightning quick, fluid countering.
Sam raced into the room, Erika bent over coughing, trapped behind the two large men on the floor at her feet; a bed blocking her only escape route. Sam made a dash for the bed as Ryan continued to struggle beneath Trin. Planting a knee on the opposite side she reached out. “Erika, come on!”
Erika gave one last terrified glance to Trin and Ryan and lunged across the bed to Sam, who grabbed hold of her, moving her into the hallway.
On the floor Trin pushed Ryan’s head to the side, applying significant pressure to his throat with his forearm. Ryan stopped breathing. Trin leaned in, lethal eyes gleaming. “You get up...it’ll be the last thing you do.” He rose from his crouched position, releasing Ryan, who rolled onto his side, gasping for air. Trin loomed above him. “We’re taking her, and she’s pressing charges.”
No one said a word as Trin took both girls and headed for the stairs. They passed Anna and Vig on the way down, pushing through the crowd. Blood flowed freely from the cut on Erika’s head, matting her hair, streaking her face. She trembled in Sam’s embrace, terrified and struggling to breathe.
“What the hell happened?” Vig asked.
“Ryan had her pinned against the wall. He was choking her,” Sam said.
Trin guided them forward. “We need something for her head. We’re taking her to the hospital.”
Vig ushered them into the kitchen, followed by Anna and a growing crowd of students. He grabbed a dish towel to stop the bleeding, handing it to Trin, who jerked his head toward Sam. “Sam, hold that against her head until we get her there.”
Tears streamed down Erika’s face. Every instinct within Trin cried out to heal her. But he knew he couldn’t. “Head injuries bleed a lot, Erika,” he said. “Don’t worry. You’re going to be fine.” They headed out the back door into another crowd of students, pushing their way through the back yard.
Ryan was inside, pushing his way down the stairs.
Trin guided the girls to the side of the house, reaching into his pocket for his keys.
Ryan stormed through the kitchen, headed for the back door.
Prickling intuition ignited at the base of Trin’s neck. His eyes lifted, gleaming, deadly, feeling the attack before Ryan had even made it outside. Enough.
Sam turned to Trin and froze as savage white energy ruptured around him. She looked to the house just in time to see Ryan bursting through the back door. Everyone turned as the color drained form her face.
Ryan lunged at Trin’s back in a violent rage. The crowd reeled in a collective gasp as Trin’s body turned before impact, his powerful leg thrust backward, his foot blasting the side of Ryan’s head in an explosive back kick that snapped Ryan backward and slammed his massive body into the ground.
“Trin stop!” Sam screamed.
Inside the house male voices sounded from the bottom of the stairs. “Kosolov and Overton are fighting!”
Ryan lay on the ground holding his head, red, swelling at his right eye, but it wasn’t long before he got up. Rolling to his stomach, he pushed himself to his feet, enraged. In a fury he went for Trin again, throwing a punch aimed at his face. Trin dodged, throwing a knee into his abdomen. Ryan buckled over as Trin slammed an iron fist into the side of his head.
“Fiiiiight!”
A stampede of students came crashing through the back door into the yard, among them Vig, not sharing their enthusiasm. Anna was right behind him, pushing her way through the crowd to the yard.
“He’s gonna kill him,” Sam said. “He’s not gonna stop.” Sam trembled, passing Erika to Anna. “Get her to the truck. I have to stop him.”
“How are you going to do that?” Anna begged.
“I don’t know,” she said, running back toward the crowd.
“You’ll get yourself killed, Sam!” Anna shouted. “Vig!” she screamed. “Stop her!”
Vig caught Sam in his arms from behind. “Sam! Are you outta your mind?”
“You don’t understand!” she begged, fighting to break free. “Trin won’t stop until he’s dead! Please help me, Vig!”
He hesitated, panicked indecision on his face. “Okay.” He let her go and raced through the crowd in front of her, shoving people out of the way as they went. “Break em’ up!” he shouted.
No one listened. The entire yard was filled with oblivious bystanders eager to catch a glimpse of the fight of the year, and those who did care didn’t dare get in between the two massive young men.
He pushed through the last of the crowd and froze where he stood. Down on the grass Ryan’s bruised and bloodied face gaped, turning purple from underneath Trin’s solid choke hold. Vig moved around them, scanning for swimmers or football players, anyone close to either Trin or Ryan, but none could be found. “Trin, stop!” Vig lunged forward in an attempt to pull him off Ryan.
Pure instinct launched Trin’s elbow backward, right under Vig’s jaw.
Vig hit the ground—out cold.
In that split second, Ryan rolled his body beneath Trin, desperate to better his position. But this only made it easier for Trin to reapply the deadly hold.
Sam watched in horror as Trin slid his right arm under Ryan’s neck, left arm under Ryan’s left shoulder, grabbed his own wrist, locking the iron hold in place and squeezed. A rush of exacted justice consumed him as he felt the life slipping away from his target.
Trinton.
Trin’s eyes flashed, fluttered, chiseled jaw relaxing as his frenzied mind eased. The voic
e wasn’t harsh, yet it rocked his entire core, bringing him out of the fury. Ryan was no longer conscious.
Отпустите его, Trinton.
Trin looked up to find Anvil standing in front of him...
...and he let go.
CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
R yan dropped to the ground, bruised, bloody, out cold. Trin reeled in horror at what he had nearly done. His lack of control, his inability to hear Sam as she begged him to stop. What was happening to him? He looked to Anvil who stood, staring back—resolute.
Trin and Ryan’s teammates pushed their way through the crowd, Sam racing to Trin, dropping to his side, taking his face in her hands.
A burly, muscled young man dropped to Ryan’s side, checking his injuries. Trin stood as Sam scrambled to her feet hanging on to his arm. Trin moved her tiny frame behind him as the young man’s face reddened, jaw clenched. His furious gaze shot up to Trin. “You son of a bitch!” He jumped to his feet, lunging at Trin only to be stopped by another player grabbing his arm. “Jonas, hold up man!” Jonas struggled against his team mate until he saw where he pointed. Across the lawn Ryan’s girlfriend sobbed while a pretty blonde treated a bloody wound on her head. Jonas’s entire countenance changed.
“He tried to help her without hurting him, bro,” said one bystander. “Ryan kept coming after him.”
Jonas stood speechless, staring, as devastation replaced his rage. Ryan was his friend. He knew about the steroids and had tried to get him to stop, fearing this very thing.
Two of Ryan’s teammates pushed past him to collect Ryan from the lawn. “Jonas, come on man. Let’s get him outta here.” They lifted Ryan from the ground, carrying him through the crowd. Jonas locked eyes with Trin, an unspoken understanding passing between them. He turned, following the men, carrying his friend out of the yard.
