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Part 50
The service corridor smelled of dust and metal, and Anna's scream ricocheted off the concrete like a flare in the dark.
"PUT HER DOWN!" Ethan's voice cracked the air first—raw, furious. Nick was a step behind him, eyes narrowed, reading the space in a heartbeat: four boys, one exit, Anna struggling over the leader's shoulder.
The leader pivoted, tightening his grip. "Too late," he spat, backing toward a door at the end of the hall.
Nick's reply was ice-cold. "No. Too late for you."
Two of the boys rushed them. Ethan didn't wait—he met the first head-on, a driving shoulder that slammed the guy into the wall. The second swung wildly at Nick; Nick slipped the punch, hooked the kid's wrist, and twisted him down to the floor with brutal efficiency.
"Anna!" Ethan's eyes never left her. "I've got you—just keep moving, kick—"
She did. Anna twisted hard, elbowed the leader's neck, and he staggered, swearing. She spilled off his shoulder, hit the ground, and scrambled backward on her palms. He lunged for her hair.
A blur of silver—Kylie, breathless, swung a metal baton she'd yanked from a janitor's cart outside. The leader's hand recoiled on instinct. "Don't touch her," she said, voice shaking but steady.
He snarled. "You again."
Nick's hand snapped to the leader's collar and yanked him back. "Face someone your size." He drove the boy into a row of lockers; the clang thundered down the hall. The leader came back swinging. Nick blocked, counted beats, then buried two clean shots in the ribs and one at the jaw. The leader reeled.
Behind them, another kid grabbed Anna's wrist. Ethan saw red. He tore the boy off her, shoved him to the ground, and planted a knee on his chest. "Look at her again and you'll forget your own name." The boy's bravado dissolved into a nod.
The leader, desperate, fumbled for a pocketknife. It flashed under the corridor light—then skittered away as Kylie kicked it clean across the floor. "You drop that," she said, chin lifting, "or you drop."
Nick didn't give him the choice. He swept the kid's legs and pinned him hard, forearm across his collarbone. "It ends here."
For a beat, all anyone could hear was breathing—harsh, heavy, alive.
Ethan turned to Anna and crouched. "Hey. Look at me." His hands hovered at her shoulders, asking permission before he touched. She nodded, eyes wet and furious. He pulled her in, holding her like she might vanish if he loosened his grip. "You're safe."
Kylie dropped beside them, the baton clattering softly to the floor. "I called campus security," she said, voice low. "And… Mr. Carter's head of security. They're on their way."
Nick glanced up, still pinning the leader. "Good."
Footsteps thundered at the far end of the corridor—more boys from the gang, late to the party and suddenly unsure. They saw their friends sprawled, the leader pinned, Nick's stare daring them to try, Ethan rising like a storm with Anna behind him, and Kylie standing guard with zero quit in her posture.
They hesitated. Then they ran.
"Cowards," the leader hissed.
"Learners," Nick corrected, shoving off him and yanking the kid to sit against the wall, hands visible. "Lesson's not over."
Sirens—a campus cart first, then the sharp wail of city police pulled by Carter security's quick call. Uniforms poured in. The boys on the floor tried to re-inflate their arrogance; it popped the second an officer knelt to collect the fallen knife and another read them their rights.
A security chief in a dark suit strode straight to Nick. "Mr. Carter."
Nick didn't waste breath on pleasantries. "Get statements. Pull every camera on this wing, rear lots, and the east gate. Lock footage chain of custody." His gaze slid to the leader. "Make sure he understands this isn't going away."
"It won't," the chief said.
Ethan kept his body between Anna and the chaos. "We're leaving," he told an officer evenly. "She needs a doctor to look her over."
"We'll take your statements tomorrow morning," the officer replied, softer now that he'd clocked the tremor in Anna's hands. "You did the right thing calling it in."
Kylie squeezed Anna's fingers. "Can you stand?" Anna nodded. Together, the three of them moved—Ethan at her side, Kylie a protective shadow. Nick fell in step behind, the last wall between them and anything that dared to try again.
Outside, the night air was cool, almost tender. The quad that had seemed like a trap minutes ago felt open again. The black cars waited at the curb—one university, one Carter. Blue and red lights painted the stone columns.
Anna paused, breath hitching. "I dropped my bracelet," she said suddenly, the thought slicing through her fog—thin gold, the one her mother gave her. Panic flared.
"I'll get it," Nick said. He was gone and back in seconds, the bracelet looped around his finger. He slipped it into her palm, careful, like returning a crown. "It's not leaving you again."
"Thank you," she whispered.
Ethan's hand found the small of her back, grounding her. "Home," he murmured.
Kylie lingered, eyes flicking from Anna to Nick. "I'm… I'm coming with you. If that's okay." She lifted her chin. "I'm not letting her be alone tonight."
Nick opened the rear door. "All of you. In."
The drive was quiet, the city sliding by like a lullaby no one believed in yet. Anna's head tipped to Ethan's shoulder. His arm wrapped around her, fingers tracing absent circles on her sleeve until the tremor in her breathing softened. Across from them, Kylie watched the streetlights streak the glass and swallowed hard, fury and relief warring in her chest.
Nick kept his eyes on the road, jaw set, every sense still hunting for threats that weren't there anymore. But when he spoke, his voice was gentle, the edge sheathed for now. "Tomorrow, we talk to the dean. And to your mother, Anna. This won't be buried."
Anna nodded against Ethan. "Okay."
Kylie exhaled, a small, shaky sound. "Good."
They pulled up to the Rosé gates. The world on this side of the fence was golden and safe, but all four knew safety wasn't a place—it was a circle you built and stood inside of together.
Ethan helped Anna out first, then turned back to Nick and Kylie. "Thank you."
Nick gave a single nod. "We finish this properly in the morning."
Kylie met Anna's eyes. No rivalry. No masks. "Text me if you wake up scared," she said, almost whispering. "I'll be awake."
Anna's lips quivered into the smallest smile. "Okay."
The doors closed. The night finally exhaled.
And somewhere between the sirens and the stars, four lives threaded a little tighter—tougher than fear, louder than hate, ready for whatever came next.