Harry Potter.
Malik’s favorite.
“Who the hell are you?” I snapped.
The man closed the book slowly and stood up. He looked like he could pick up a truck if he needed to.
“My name’s Ronan,” he said quietly.
Then he looked straight at me.
“I’m the one who hit your boy.”
The next part happened so fast I barely remember it.
I launched at him.
All the fear and anger that had been building for three days exploded at once. I swung without thinking. My fist connected with his jaw before hospital security rushed in and dragged me away.
Ronan didn’t fight back.
Not once.
Blood ran from his lip, but he didn’t even lift his hands.
“You need to leave,” the head nurse told him firmly. “Right now.”
Leave a Comment