Chapter Eleven

Riot

"I 'll drive," Rafe signs as we say goodbye to the guys and promise that we'll let them know if we need backup.

We shouldn't. There are plenty of our people there, so if we need any help, they will step in too. The trouble is that we'd like to avoid that happening if possible because if our people step in, then more of Tomlinson's people will step in, and then the fight will just get out of control; that's why we're going to try and de-escalate it before it gets to the point of no return.

We both jump into Trick's truck since neither of our cars are here and head to the parking lot where Trick said the fight was.

"How bad do you think it's going to be?" I ask.

Rafe shrugs and signs with one hand as he keeps the other on the steering wheel, "Hopefully, not too bad."

"Yeah, I don't think I'm up for being hauled down to the station; my aunt would not be impressed and try to ground me or some shit," I reply, rolling my eyes and making him smirk.

"Like you'd listen," he replies, his hand moving quickly as he signs.

I chuckle, "Well, I'd make her think I was listening for as long as I could, and then just deal with the disappointment when she found out I was still doing everything I normally do. She can't enforce it if she's not at home, and I can't afford to be grounded and out for the count when we've got stuff going on with fights practically every night breaking out between Tomlinson and us, our jobs, and now, with the overdoses and Tomlinson's most likely involvement. I absolutely refuse to leave you guys short one person when we're dealing with things that are so dangerous."

Rafe glances at me and nods, moving his eyes back onto the road as he takes his hand off the steering wheel and signs, "I know."

There's no more time for conversation as he pulls into the lot and heads to the back corner, where the crowd is obvious and starting to gain attention.

"This isn't good," I say, and Rafe shakes his head in agreement, "Don't park; they should all recognize the truck, drive it as close as you can, and I'll hop out, grab our guy, and throw him in the truck. Hopefully, that will stop the fight. there only appears to be the two of them fighting at the moment."

Although he doesn't look too happy about the plan, Rafe nods, "Stay safe."

I smile as we approach the crowd, and people immediately start moving away, some of them leaving and getting in their own cars, which is a good sign and hopefully means that this plan will work.

"I always do," I reply and then add, "stay in the truck and keep the engine running so we can get him out of here without incident, the last thing we need is for the Tomlinson guy to try and follow him. We need to get him into the truck and away from the fight so he can calm down."

"Got it," Rafe replies, looking even more worried now that he's staying in the truck, even though he knows that I'm more than capable of dealing with one little fight.

As he stops the truck, getting me within a couple of meters of the fighting pair, who haven't even noticed that there's a truck so close to them, he undoes his seatbelt, and I know that it's in case he needs to get out of the truck and help me. Everyone has now scattered and decided to leave, which, to be honest, is a relief. As I said before, I really didn't want to deal with a full-on massive fight; I don't really have the energy for it, amongst other reasons.

I jump out as soon as the truck stops, pulling the door to the back seat open quickly, then stride toward the fight. Fortunately, I recognize which one is our guy, and I duck a stray fist as I grab him and haul him quickly backward, throwing him into the truck and hopping in myself before he realizes what's happened.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He yells, looking around, his eyes wild before they land on Rafe in the driving seat, and then moves to see me calmly watching him.

The fight drains out of him, and he leans forward, his head drooping slightly as he catches his breath.

We drive around for a few minutes as we wait for him to pull himself together before he finally lifts his head. I wince slightly; he's got a cut lip, busted nose, and definitely a black eye, the bruise already starting to form.

"Just a random fight, or did he provoke you?" I ask, which is the same thing I ask everyone when we break up fights. I don't particularly care if they just wanted a fight and started on the first Tomlinson fucker that they saw, but I do care if there was a decent reason behind it and if that reason is something that we need to be aware of.

Of course, not all of the fights are between Tomlinson and us. There is a vast amount that's in-house, as it were, and we only really split the major ones up. The cops only really seem interested in the ones that happen between the two schools since we have a known rivalry going on and because of the Pit. Any in-house fights, they pretty much leave it be, unless it gets particularly bad and they're forced to step in.

The guy, I think he's called Jake, sighs and says, "He hit my sister."

"We should've let you beat him for longer," I mutter, a growl to my voice.

Jake smirks slightly at my words, "I got him good."

"Is she okay?" Rafe signs, and I translate for him.

Jake nods somewhat hesitantly, "She's shaken up, scared, and won't go anywhere without me, but she's tough as nails, and she'll be okay."

I nod, "We'll put him on the watch list and put the word out exactly what kind of a coward he is; I'm pretty sure you won't be the only one who beats his ass."

Jake's eyebrows raise slightly in surprise, but he nods, "Thanks, man. I appreciate that. I'm sure that will make Kaley feel safer, too."

"No problem, it's the least we can do," I reply. "What's his name?"

"Rupert Wise." Jake practically sneers.

Rafe starts signing with one hand again, and I translate it for Jake when I realize he's talking to him, "If he starts giving her any sort of trouble, messages her, or turns up, anything like that, let us know, and we'll personally deal with it."

"Seriously?" Jake asks.

I nod, "Yeah, seriously, we're not going to let that slide, and if we can deal with it, we will."

"Wow! Thanks guys, really." He repeats.

"No problem," I reply with a smile and then change the subject and ask, "Where can we drop you off?"

He quickly reels off his address, which is, of course, in the opposite direction of the way we've been driving. While we head in the right direction, I put the word out that Rupert is now on what I've affectionately dubbed the shit list, and that everyone needs to spread the word and warn the girls about him too. I highly doubt that what he's done to Jake's sister is an isolated event, and I'd almost be willing to bet that he's done it before.

I also message Trick and the guys to let them know about the developments and that we're okay, and we broke up the fight without incident. I doubt that they paid much attention to the movie after we left, and were instead waiting for an update, and making sure that they were ready to go if we messaged and said that we needed them.

Trick: Got it. Have you put out the word?

Me: Yep, all done. We're just taking him home now, and then we'll be back.

Trick: Good job. See you soon.

As I look up from my phone, I catch sight of Jake in the mirror and wince again; we really shouldn't send him back looking as bad as he currently does. There's fuck all that we can do about the split lip and the bruising, but we could at least get the blood off so it doesn't look as bad as it does now. I'm sure that we've got some wet wipes in here somewhere; I mean, it's Trick's truck, and he prepares for everything, so I would be very surprised if there aren't any in here. Rafe's eyes keep darting to me curiously as I rummage around under the seat and then in the glove compartment, and I know he's desperate to ask me what the fuck I'm doing.