BREN
We’d been here before.
Different night. Different town. Different guy.
Same situation.
A guy hurt someone Jordan loved. The last guy had hurt his sister. This guy touched his girl. It didn’t matter if Tabatha chose to do it. She felt put in a situation where she had to, or her mom was in danger. To Jordan that meant this guy took advantage of Tabatha, i.e., he hurt her.
The last time all the guys took hits. This time, at the end of an abandoned dead end, Jordan pushed the guy away and began circling him.
“What’s going on? Why’d you ditch DeVroe?” The guy was looking at us, edging backwards. He was skittish, jumping as Jordan kept moving around him.
“You touched Tabatha Sweets.”
Jordan’s head was down. He kept going, swinging his arms at his side, a gentle sway, as if he were s
