"Nate, don’t!" Nora's voice cuts through the chaos like a knife, desperate and shaky as autumn leaves, but I can't stop.

I tackle him through the coffee table and glass shatters beneath us. He groans as we hit the ground, shards tinkling like broken wind chimes around us. I pin him down, each punch fueled by the fear I saw in Nora's eyes and his smug expression I want to permanently erase. His hands flail uselessly against me, but I'm relentless. One punch after another, each impact sending jolts through my knuckles that I barely register.

"Stop it!" Nora's voice pierces through the red haze, but it barely reaches through the roar of blood in my ears.

A hand yanks me back and I twist, ready to swing. A punch lands on my jaw, sending me stumbling, copper flooding my mouth.

Fucking Connor.

The sight of him reignites the fire in my veins. He throws another punch that cuts through air like a blade. I duck, feeling it whistle past, then counter with a shot to his ribs. He doubles over, grunting, before charging again.

The crowd erupts around us, a chaotic blur of shouts pulsing with the music, but it's all background noise. My focus locks on Connor, everything else fading to shadows as adrenaline narrows my world to fists and fury.

"Nate!" Jay's voice cuts through the chaos like a knife through fog. He steps between us, hands against my chest like trying to hold back a storm. Connor seizes the moment, swinging past Jay's guard. The punch lands with a sickening thud, and Jay stumbles back, blood trickling from his mouth.

“Son of a—” Jay spits red onto the floor, shaking his head. His eyes darken like storm clouds. "Oh, you're fucked now, Country Club."

Jay launches forward like a spring uncoiling, fist connecting with Connor's face. The impact sounds like thunder, sending Connor reeling into the crowd.

"Nora, wait!" Camilla's voice slices through the noise, pulling me from the red haze. My fists drop instantly as I glare at Connor and Evan through sweat and blood.

"Nate, Nora's leaving!" Camilla calls again, desperation threading through her voice.

I turn just in time to see Nora pushing through the crowd like a ghost, dark hair disappearing into the sea of bodies.

Connor sneers from the wall, wiping blood from his split lip. "Get the fuck out of here, Sullivan," he spits, crimson staining his teeth.

But I'm already moving, focused on Nora, everything else falling away. The fight, the pain, the rage—none of it matters anymore. Only she does.

"Nora!" I call after her, my voice cracking in the cold night air like ice breaking.

She doesn't stop, shoulders shaking visibly as she walks faster, pushing past people like she's trying to outrun something darker than just this night. The distance between us stretches like an endless chasm, and for the first time tonight, I feel real fear—not of fists or blood, but of losing her in ways that can't be fixed with violence.