Remember This Part

26. The Aftermath of Wellington Street

Alex.

I know what you were going to do to her.

That sentence is playing on a loop in my head, and with every repetition, I feel the need to break another bone, to shed more blood, to watch his face turn a new shade of red as I tighten my grip around his neck. I try to focus on the man in front of me, the one trying to force air into his increasingly constricted throat. But the present keeps getting interrupted by the image of that hand on Thea.

I know what you were going to do to her.

And the grip tightens.

"Alex."

I know it's her, but it sounds like I'm hearing her from underwater. Even so, her voice, so soft and innocent, only sharpens the imaginary knife I'm driving into this guy's chest. Innocent. She's innocent, precious. And these men...what they would've done had I been just a minute later...and what I'll do to them for even thinking about her...

"Alex, please," she whispers. But her plea only enrages me further. Please, she would've said to them. Please, don't. And they wouldn't have cared. This asshole in front of me, he wouldn't have cared. He would've hurt her. He would've broken her. I'm going to break him.

Her hand is on my arm now, and on instinct I want to yell at her, make her get back and close her eyes. She shouldn't be here. Should never have been here, in this neighborhood with people like Manuel who would hurt her. 

"Let's go. Please," she says more desperately. "I...I don't feel well."

I hear the man's gasp for air before I even realize I let go of his neck. My gaze moves sharply to my right, where Thea is hovering nervously beside me. Is she hurt?

I scan her neck, her arms, her face, looking for damage. I try to avoid her eyes, but my worry gets the best of me and I scan those, too. I find what I expect to see. Fear. The kind of fear that hollows me out. Is it lingering fear from them? Or is she scared of me?

The idea that I might be responsible for it gets me to drop the guy I'd been strangling.

"F*ck, man!" he chokes out. "The hell...are you?" But he doesn't wait around to find out. After a moment of stumbling blindly in an attempt to catch his balance, he manages to follow the other guys out of the alley, limping and staggering.

Thea watches them with a startled gaze as they leave. They don't even give Manuel another glance. And they know better than to give Thea so much as another thought.

Shit. I could've killed them.

Thea looks back at me, and this time, her eyes are infused with a different emotion. A lesser type of fear. Concern, maybe. But I can't imagine her worry is anything close to mine.

The image of that scumbag's hand on her races across my mind once more, and now I'm looking at her more closely, my hands framing her face as I search for potential scrapes or bruises. If I see even a scratch, I swear, I'll drag those jackasses back here and finish what I started. They couldn't have gotten far with their injuries.

"Alex," Thea starts to say, her breath caught up in her throat. I tip her chin up so I can examine her neck. "Alex."

"Did you hit your head?" I ask, brushing her hair aside so I can search for any sign of swelling.

"No, Alex, I'm fine, I promise," she assures me. "I just feel a little nauseous." I can't pretend that I don't hear the way her voice trembles, but I also can't properly comfort her right now. Everything I'm feeling is still so close to the surface, raw and unprocessed. All I can do is make sure she's physically okay. It's the only thing keeping my mind here on planet Earth.