Sleet Banshee by S.J. Tilly

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

SEBASTIAN

I’m not sure what we missed, but something’s definitely happened. With Meghan’s hand in mine, I push through the bodies filling the back hallway. When we left, the crowd was on the dance floor, not back here. I don’t know what’s wrong, but we weren’t gone that long. Not saying I’m a quick shooter, but frantic high-passion fucks aren’t known for being long-drawn-out affairs.

Trying to focus, the conversations around us start to make their way into my awareness.

“I can’t believe they arrested him.”

“Didn’t you see that other guy? He nearly killed him.”

“So what? That fucker hit that girl first.”

I can feel a prickle of awareness on the back of my neck.

“What’s going on?” Meg asks from behind me.

I shake my head, since I don’t have the answer.

I’m tall, and I’m walking ahead of Banshee, so I get to take in the scene first. The lights are up. The music is turned down. And my teammates are standing around a cluster of tables where Izzy is sitting on a barstool. With an ice pack against her face. Talking to a couple of cops.

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” Meghan whispers.

I just shake my head, again.

“Izzy!” The alarm in her reaction is instantaneous when she sees her friend.

Meghan pulls her hand from my grip and runs to Izzy’s side. I look around for Zach, but I don’t see him.

Striding up to the group, I keep looking for him. “Luke, where’s Zach?”

He cocks his head. “Where’s Zach? Where the fuck have you been, if you’re asking that question?”

I step into his space. “Not the time, dickhead. What’s going on?”

Luke looks back at Izzy. “He got arrested. Some asshole hit Izzy, and Zach lost his shit. Beat him half to death before Jackson and I could peel him off the guy.”

“Fuck.” I drag a hand over my face.

“Yeah, fuck is right.” Luke sighs.

I watch as Izzy gives Meghan a sad smile. She’s the one that got hurt, but it looks like she’s trying to comfort Meg. I might not know Banshee as well as I’d like to, but I know her enough to guess that she’s feeling guilty. While we were out back fucking, her friend was in here going through a crisis.

My chest constricts when I see a tear streak down Meghan’s cheek. She reaches up to wipe it off, and her eyes catch mine. She looks away quickly and swipes at another tear. My chest tightens another notch.

Goddamnit. I know that look. It’s the look of regret.

I’m not done with Banshee, but I’m afraid she might be done with me.