14. Derek

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Derek

B reathless and frantic, I bolt out of the convention hall with Ash and Brooks in tow. We spot Janie talking anxiously to security.

"What happened?" Ash gasps, "Where's Indy?" His eyes scan the area for any sign of Indy. My heart races as my mind fills with worst-case scenarios. Images of her unconscious in that hotel bathroom still haunt me.

"Some dickhole attacked her," Janie says, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Fox took her back to your room with Ren." Without hesitation, Ash sprints off while Brooks stays behind to talk to Janie.

"What did the attacker look like?"

"Oh, I got a picture," she says confidently, showing us a photo of the perpetrator before walking away, saying she needs to check on the booth. I try to remain calm, but I can't help feeling a surge of anger toward whoever hurt her. How? How could someone attack Indy? She's nothing but sweetness. I'm going to kill them. I see no other alternative to the situation. Brooks yells after me not to do anything foolish, but I ignore him, saying I'm going to grab a coffee. As soon as I'm out of sight, I head toward the parking garage figuring the piece of shit would be trying to leave the hotel at this point.

As I make my way through the dark parking garage, my footsteps echo off the concrete walls. Just as I'm about to give up my search for the coward who hurt Indy, a figure appears from one of the shadowy corners. My heart pounds in my chest as I recognize him - the man responsible for Indy's attack. Without a second thought, I charge toward him, grab him by the back of his shirt, and slam him against a nearby car with all my might. The satisfying thud that follows is music to my ears as I let out a growl of anger and frustration.

"Help!" He cries out, his voice strained and desperate. But my hands are like a vice around his head as I continue to slam it against the car's hard surface, the sound of impact echoing throughout the garage. Each hit feels like a burst of electricity running through my arms, fueled by anger and adrenaline. I can nearly smell the metallic scent of blood filling the air, mixing with the smell of oil and exhaust from the parked cars nearby.

"Help?" I repeat with a low, menacing chuckle. "When you were attacking that girl, did she beg for help? Did you heed her cries? Or did you continue your heinous acts?" The man struggles to break free, landing an elbow in my face, but I only laugh in response. "Oh, this is going to be entertaining." He frantically tries to explain himself as I grab him by the collar of his shirt, my hands shaking with anger.

My rage boils over as I hear his pathetic excuse. With a guttural snarl, I grab him by the throat with a crushing grip, my fingers digging into his skin like claws. The sight of my own blood dripping from my split lip only fuels my anger as I lean in closer to him.

"Don't you fucking dare lie to me again," I growl through clenched teeth. "I will make sure you suffer a slow and agonizing death if you ever lay a finger on my girl again. Understood? You'll be hanging upside down, your life slowly draining away as you beg for mercy that will never come." With one final squeeze, I release him and watch as he crumples to the ground, quivering with fear.

But my fury isn't satisfied yet. With every punch, I feel catharsis in the release of my pent-up anger toward this piece of shit who dared touch Indy. Blow after blow, I unleash all my hatred until he lies before me, broken and defeated. And even then, it's not enough. So I continue pounding him, fueling my fists with every ounce of rage within me until there's nothing left but a bloody pulp at my feet.

Letting out a breath, I turn and head back toward the building. With each step, my adrenaline slows, and the pain begins to set in, but I'm not going to be able to rest until I see Indy.