"All right, that's enough," Ollie says, voice calm but solid as bedrock. His eyes move between us, assessing the situation like a bomb tech. "Nate, take Nora home. I'll look after our boy here."

Jake snorts, turning away like we're beneath his notice.

Ollie leans closer to me, voice low. "Go find my sister and make sure she's okay. I'll bring Jake back."

I hesitate, eyes lingering on Jake, who's already laughing with strangers like nothing happened, like he hasn't just torn open wounds that might never heal.

Finally, I nod, the weight of everything unsaid heavy as lead. "Thanks."

Ollie grips my shoulder, the gesture grounding. "Just get her home safe, yeah?"

I don't need to be told twice.

Some fires you can't extinguish—you can only watch them burn and try to salvage what remains.

Jay and I push back through the crowd, bass pounding like war drums in my chest. Jake's words echo in my head, but I force them down like bitter medicine. Right now, I need to find Nora and get her out of here.

"You good, man?" Jay asks, voice low as grave dirt.

Before I can answer, my entire body locks up like I've been struck by lightning.

I see her.

And I see him.

That motherfucker has his hands on her waist, fingers digging into her flesh like he's marking territory. He's leaning in, whispering something that makes her face go pale, eyes darting around the room like a trapped animal searching for escape. She looks terrified, and something primal inside me snaps like a steel cable under tension.

"Oh, fuck," Jay mutters beside me, voice taut as a bowstring.

I don't hear the rest. The world narrows to a tunnel, red bleeding into the edges of my vision. Pure, unfiltered rage surges through my veins like liquid fire, and before I can think, I'm moving through the crowd like a bullet finding its target.

Evan barely has time to look up before I rip him away from her. He stumbles back, expensive shoes squeaking on polished floor, and I don't give him a chance to recover. My fist connects with his face with a sickening crack that reverberates up my arm, the impact sending shockwaves through both our bodies.

"You have some fucking nerve touching her," I growl, voice low and lethal as a blade against throat. Blood drips from his split lip, staining his perfect white teeth as he staggers.

"Touch her again," my voice drops even lower, promising violence, "and I'll break every fucking bone in your body, twice."

Instead of backing down, he smirks through the blood. "Enjoy my seconds, Sullivan. She's a little too soft for my taste, but still fun."

The words barely register before everything goes red. My fist finds his jaw again, harder this time, bone meeting bone with a sound like thunder. He stumbles into a group of people, sending drinks and shouts flying, but nothing exists except him and the rage burning through my veins like acid.