The party was alive, the kind of chaos that rattled through every corner of the house. Music blared from overworked speakers, voices shouted over the noise, and bodies moved in every direction, drunk on cheap alcohol and freedom. For a while, everything felt easy. Hughie’s arm was loose around your waist, laughter spilling from his lips as his teammates pulled him into their circle.

But then you lost him. It wasn’t unusual. Hughie could be swallowed by a crowd in seconds, drawn into laughter and banter that never seemed to end. You let him go, slipping through the rooms with a drink in hand, until the night shifted.

The creep found you first. His shadow lingered too close, his hand brushing against your arm, his voice low and insistent over the music. At first, you tried to step away, but his persistence hardened into something uglier. His fingers caught your wrist, his grin unfaltering as you tried to push him off. The laughter and music made it impossible for anyone else to notice, and the air in your lungs tightened.

You broke free just long enough to find Hughie. Relief collided with fury as you reached him, chest tight, words tumbling out with the weight of what had happened. His face changed in an instant. The easy, drunken smile fell away, replaced by a fire in his eyes you’d only ever glimpsed before.

He moved before anyone could stop him. His fist connected with the guy’s jaw, the sound sickening beneath the music. One punch turned into another, then another, until the creep was sprawled on the floor, blood seeping, body slack. Hughie was relentless, every ounce of him pouring into each blow, his knuckles split and raw.

Johnny, Gibsie, and Patrick tore him back, muscles straining as they held him off the unconscious figure. Hughie fought against them, chest heaving, rage spilling out of him in waves that drowned out everything else. His eyes never left the guy on the floor, wild and unrecognizable.

The room around you had gone quiet, the music still playing but muffled under the weight of what had just happened. All you could see was Hughie—bloodied knuckles, trembling shoulders, fury burning through him like wildfire.