“Keep moving,” Jamal warned, tugging on my arm.

People turned toward the staircase, eyes flicking between us, sensing the fight before it even started.

“Back off, Nathan,” Jamal said. “It’s over.”

Nathan’s gaze flicked to him. “This ain’t your business.”

“You made it my business when you put your hands on her,” Jamal shot back. He exhaled a slow breath. “Man, just let it go.”

Nathan chuckled—an ugly sound that barely sounded human. “Let it go? Oh, that’s rich. You think you can hit me and walk out like nothing happened?”

I heard footsteps rushing toward us, then Sydney’s voice. “Nathan, what⁠—?”

Nathan pointed at me, blood on his teeth when he sneered. “Your psycho boyfriend sucker-punched me.”

Tiffany stormed toward us, her heels clicking against the wood, her expression flicking between annoyance and concern. “Oh, hell no. What the hell is going on?”

“Stay out of it,” Jamal said, his tone harsh, but she ignored him.

My attention flicked toward Beverly. She was standing just behind Tiffany, arms wrapped around herself, her face unreadable.

I knew she was shaken.

She was doing her best to hide it, but I knew her too well.

I turned back to Nathan. “You’re drunk. Go home.”

Nathan scoffed. “Oh, now you want to talk? That’s funny. Didn’t seem like you wanted to talk when you were busy trying to kill me. Admit it,” he hissed. “You’ve always wanted to hit me.”

I didn’t answer.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

He wiped his nose. “You’re nothing,” he said, his voice low. “You think you’re better than me? Please. You’re just a foster kid that no one wanted. You’re lucky the Price’s kept you around. Probably felt sorry for you.”

I took a step forward, but Jamal’s hand shot out, pressing against my chest before I could touch him.

“Nope.” His voice was calm but firm. “Not worth it.”

Nathan smirked like he’d won. It took everything in me not to knock that smug look right off his face.

“Dude, just go home,” Jamal told him, exasperated.

“Damn, you again.” He spread his arms out dramatically. “What are you gonna do? Pray me away?”

Jamal stiffened beside me.

His expression darkened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Nathan grinned like he was proud of himself. “You heard me.”

Tiffany stepped closer to Jamal’s side. Her eyes were sharp, locked onto Nathan like she was ready to throw hands herself.

Nathan laughed derisively. “What, you need your little princess to protect you? Bet you pray five times a day for that one.”

“Hey!” Beverly snapped. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You wanna say that again?” Tiffany challenged.

Behind us, a voice sneered, “Why? What’s he gonna do?”