Callan
Beckham must have glanced over at the bar for the hundredth time when he dropped his pool cue and stood ramrod straight. “Uhm, guys.”
“What now?” Reed complained right as a loud bang sounded from my right.
My head twisted toward the bar so fast that I had whiplash, but I didn’t give it a second thought when I beelined for the girls. The others weren’t far behind as we pushed through the few groups of people that were now staring at the commotion.
Brandy was yelling in some guy's face as Sage tried to scoot off her seat behind the man. His barstool had tipped over when he stood up, blocking her exit. She looked cornered and scared and it ignited a rage inside of me that I’d never felt before.
Lettie and Oakley stood behind Brandy like her backup, but they were so focused on the man that they didn’t see Sage trying to get away. It was like slow motion as I rushed over. She tried to balance a foot on one of the metal rods on the stool, but her sneaker slipped and she careened forward. Breaking into a run to close the ten feet still separating us, I caught her around her waist as she braced her hands on my chest.
“I’ve got you,” I murmured into her hair as she shook against me.
Making sure her foot wasn’t caught in the stool, I kicked it away and pulled her to me. Her entire body trembled as my hands tightened on her waist.
Seconds later, Beckham was in the man's face, sending a punch straight into his jaw. He was a swing first, ask questions later kind of guy. Brandy tried to get a punch in, but before her fist could land true, Reed was picking her up by the waist and slinging her over his shoulder.
“Let me go!” she screamed, but Reed didn’t pay her demands any mind as he hauled her away.
“Are you okay?” I asked Sage. Her eyes were frantically searching the bar, so lost in her head that she didn’t hear me. “Sage.”
Lettie and Oakley were already backed away from the fight, Bailey and Lennon now pulling Beckham off the man. Beck had him on the ground, sending punches to his jaw.
Sage’s chest was rising and falling like she’d run a mile. I needed to get her out of here. The signs of a panic attack were clear to me, and she was on the verge.
I reached for her hand and she ripped it away, eyes flaring up to mine. “It’s okay, Sage. I’m going to get you out of here, okay?”
She blinked, clearing whatever fog she was stuck in, and nodded quickly. I gently grabbed her hand, her trembling fingers folding around mine. Leading her toward the door with the trust that Bailey and Lennon would take care of the rest, we exited the bar.
As soon as the music was muffled by the door closing, I could hear her rapid breaths. Stopping in my tracks, I turned, quickly scanning her for injuries, and then cupped her cheeks.
“Breathe with me, baby. Okay? In and out.”
She nodded, the movement frantic. I inhaled deeply through my nose, then out through my mouth, watching her the entire time. Her chest was still heaving, pressing against mine with each rise. Tucking her hair behind her ears, I tilted her head up toward me.
“Sage, look at me.”
Her eyes found mine, the green in them glossed over from tears threatening to fall.
I spoke slowly to be sure she heard every word. “You’re okay. You’re safe. Slow breaths, in and out. Can you do that for me?”
She nodded again, her body still wracked with tremors. I inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, repeating the action until she was doing the same.
My hands smoothed over her hair, resting back on her cheeks. “Good. That’s good. How was work today?”
“Bad.”
My thumb brushed a tear that fell down her cheek. “Why’s that?”
“I burnt the pastries.”
“That’s okay. Things like that happen. How was Avery’s first day of school?” She’d texted me last night that Avery was jumping all over her bed, excited to see her friends.
“Good. I called her after your mom picked her up.”
“I’m sure she had a lot of fun seeing her friends. Probably told them all about the horses, too.”
Sage nodded, the movement slow. Her eyes were too damn far away, lost in whatever spiral the fight sent her into.
“Did he touch you?”
“No,” she said quietly. Her throat worked on a swallow, and I knew her mouth was dry from the panic.
The urge to storm back in there and beat the shit out of the guy with Beckham eased the slightest bit.
“Come with me.” I grabbed her hand again and led her over to the passenger side of my truck. I opened the door and reached in, all while keeping her hand in mine.
After blindly feeling around, I turned to her, letting go of her hand to twist the cap off the water bottle. “Here.”
She grabbed it gently, taking a few deep gulps.
“Thank you,” she said, handing the water back to me.
I set it in the cupholder, then faced her again. I had a million questions about what the fuck happened in there, but mostly, I was kicking myself for not keeping a closer eye on them. On her. I should’ve been watching. Hell, I should have gone with.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
My focus on the door to the bar snapped back to her. “I don’t matter right now. You do.”
