“Stop!” I wail as I tear across the yard, wedges be damned. I roll my left ankle, but the pain is nonexistent as I push to break through the wall of bodies surrounding the boy in the middle.

“Stop!” I scream again, finally busting through a sea of elbows and coming to stand in front of Fielding.

He’s doubled over and panting. Someone comes at us from behind, and I see red as I spin around and insert myself between the stupid fucker and the man who’s clearly in no shape to defend himself.

“I said stop,” I hiss when a guy swings wide and barely misses decking me in the face. I don’t even flinch as I feel the force of wind skim my cheek where the punch almost landed. I’m too furious to care.

“What is wrong with all of you?” I demand, keeping my back to Fielding because I sure as hell don’t trust any of these goons to back off just because I said so.

“Yo. Bitch. Stand down. This guy wanted it.”

I have no idea who said that. Just like I don’t know what the heck to do next. I search the crowd for a familiar face but come up short. I’m surrounded by angry assholes in polos and multiple phones pointed in my direction.

“Go home, Maddie Wheeler. This doesn’t concern you. Leave my boys to their games.”

I whirl around and lock eyes with Andrew Adley. Fuck. This is his house. His party. And these are “his boys,” apparently. I keep scanning the crowd, looking for an out or a solution that doesn’t exist.

Fielding grunts behind me, and I risk turning my back to the crowd for just a second to make sure he’s okay. When I glance over my shoulder, he’s trying to rise up to standing.

“Field—sit down. Or better yet, lie down,” I command. The last thing he should be doing right now is standing.

He nods—sort of—and his head lulls from side to side, but I’m pretty sure he heard me. When he drops to his knees, he groans.

I steel my spine and stand as tall as possible. My left ankle is throbbing with the pain I didn’t feel when I rolled it, but for the first time tonight, I’m grateful to be wearing these damn wedges. I clear my throat once, and I say a silent prayer that words actually come out. If this doesn’t work…

“You’re all done here. This is over. Call your guys off, Adley.”

There’s a storm light shining on us from the upper level of the barn, so the smirk on Andrew’s face is illuminated as he cocks one eyebrow in challenge.