Chapter 50 You Too
Tyler sprang up— chair scraping loud against the floor— and rushed after her. “Let the bitch ass go!” Dre called at his back, laughing low. Tyler didn’t look back.
Maggie hit the stairs fast— heels clicking on metal treads. Tyler took them two at a time, caught her at the bottom, darted in front and spread both arms wide to block her path.
“What’s the problem?” His voice came out rough, confrontational— face squeezed tight, brows knotted. “Can’t I have a fun time with my friends, with my girl by my side?”
Maggie stopped short. A bitter smile curled her lips; she shook her head once, slow. “I know you did not just ask me that.”
“I did.” Tyler stepped closer, grabbed both her wrists before she could sidestep. “Let me have this one night.”
“Let go of me.” Her eyes locked on his— fury burning cold and steady.
“No. Not until you give me a valid reason. Why are you being so unreasonable?”
"Unreasonable?" Her voice cracked into a shout that turned heads ten feet away. "I told you I have an 8 a.m. lecture tomorrow. I told you I needed to be home by midnight. You swore— swore— we'd stay ten minutes. It's been an hour and twenty-three minutes, Tyler. For fuck's sake."
"Come on." He rolled his eyes, loosening his grip just enough that it felt mocking. "Quit being so dramatic. Missing one class isn't the end of the world. You'll still pull your A like you always do. You're Maggie a fucking A-student. So why the fuss?"
The words hit like ice water.
She went very still.
"Oh," she whispered. "I see."
Her eyes searched his face— really searched— like she was seeing him for the first time.
"That was your plan from the start, wasn't it? You never gave a damn what I needed. Only what you wanted."
She tried to pull away again.
He held tighter. Knuckles white.
"Let me go." Her voice dropped to something lethal. "Now. Or I'll scream."
He didn't.
She opened her mouth.
Before the sound could leave her throat, a shadow loomed.
A man— six-foot-seven if he was an inch— stepped between them, broad shoulders blocking half the neon light. Same age, maybe. Clean fade, dark hoodie, calm eyes that didn't blink.
"Ma'am," he said quietly, "is this man bothering you?"
"Yes," Maggie answered instantly. No hesitation.
The stranger squared up to Tyler— chest out, chin slightly raised. "You heard the lady. Let her go."
Tyler laughed once— short, ugly. "This doesn't concern you, tough guy."
"Oh yes it does."
"And what are you gonna do about it?" Tyler's free hand curled into a fist at his side.
The man took one step closer. Voice dropped so low only the three of them could hear. "You're about to find out real quick if you don't let go of her right this fucking moment."
Silence stretched— thin, electric.
Tyler's jaw worked. His eyes flicked from the stranger's face to Maggie's, then back.
Then, slowly, he released her.
A faint, bitter smile curved his lips. "Fine. Suit yourself." He looked at Maggie. "You can walk home."
"I will," she said. She rubbed her wrist— red marks already blooming— and watched him turn on his heel and stalk back toward the stairs.
The stranger exhaled. "You okay, ma'am?"
"Yes." She swallowed. "Thank you. Really."
He nodded once. "You gonna be fine walking home alone this late?"
She managed a small, tired smile. "Yes. I will."
"Alright." He started to turn.
"Wait— excuse me sir?"
He pivoted back immediately.
Maggie’s faint smile returned— tentative, curious. “It seems I know this face. Do I know you?”
The young man's mouth curved— small, genuine. “I don’t know if you know me, but I know you. We’re classmates.” He extended his right hand. “I’m Andrew.”
Maggie’s eyes widened fractionally— recognition sparking. “I knew I knew this face.” She took his hand— warm, firm grip. They shook once.
After they released, Andrew tilted his head. “You sure you’re fine walking home alone? I can escort you.”
“It’s fine.” She shook her head, smile steadying. “Really.”
“Alright.” He nodded again. “Take care.”
“You too.”
Maggie turned toward the main exit— shoulders back, steps measured. The crowd parted around her without seeming to notice. Cold night air hit her face as she pushed through the doors— sharp, cleansing. She inhaled deep, wrapped her arms around herself against the chill, and started walking.
Thirty minutes home.
The city pulsed around her— streetlights buzzing, cars whispering past, fragments of laughter drifting through the night. Her wrist throbbed, but she didn’t care. Each step carried her farther from the club, away from the suffocating grip of disregard, and closer to her apartment— the haven she so desperately needed.
She didn’t look back. She just kept walking.