DASHIELL
The drive was calm at first. The window was cracked for fresh air, soft instrumental music playing low. My fingers tapped a light rhythm on my knee as I told Alexander about the nebulae we'd seen in the planetarium show.
Then I saw it.
"Stop!" I pointed ahead. "That's the ice cream stand. They have mango sorbet. Can we stop? Please?"
Alexander slowed and pulled over near the small park. He eyed the modest stand with a raised eyebrow.
"You want ice cream from… that?"
I unbuckled quickly, bouncing on my toes as I got out. "Yes. It's good. Come on."
He walked beside me, one hand possessive on my lower back. The vendor smiled warmly. "What can I get for you two handsome gentlemen?"
"One scoop of mango sorbet in a cup, please." I glanced at Alexander. "What do you want?"
He shook his head. "Nothing for me."
"But it's a date. They have dark chocolate—it's not very sweet."
"I don't like sweet things. Get what you want, little anomaly. I'll watch you enjoy it."
I nodded and paid, thanking the vendor. The first spoonful melted cool and smooth on my tongue. I hummed happily. Alexander watched me with hungry intensity, cataloging every reaction.
After a moment, he excused himself. "I need to make a quick call. Stay right here."
I took another bite. That's when three loud young men in their early twenties approached the stand, shoving each other.
One leaned on the counter. "Two scoops strawberry in a cone. This idiot wants mint chocolate chip. The other one'll take vanilla—make it quick, old man."
The vendor started scooping patiently. Another guy smirked at me. "Bro, look at this fairy eating his little fruity sorbet."
My spoon paused. I rubbed my foot hard against my ankle, uncomfortable.
Before I could respond, one stepped closer. "What's a pretty boy like you doing out here without your boyfriend? Or is that big guy your—"
He reached out to touch me.
I stepped back. "Please don't touch me. I don't like that."
He laughed. "What are you gonna do about it, fa—"
"That's rude. You shouldn't speak to him like that. Or to me."
One of them sneered. "The fuck? Who's this little fag trying to play hero?"
"That's a homophobic slur," I said plainly. "You shouldn't call people that. It's wrong and hurtful."
The guy's face twisted. "The fuck did you just say to me?"
He shoved me hard. I stumbled back; the mango sorbet cup hit the ground with a splat. He pulled his arm back to punch me.
A large hand shot out and crushed his wrist in an iron grip.
Alexander stood there, towering, his face blank except for cold, terrifying darkness in his eyes.
The boy screamed as Alexander twisted violently. A sickening crack echoed. The attacker dropped to his knees, clutching the broken wrist.
The other two lunged.
Alexander moved like a shadow. Elbow to the first one's face—cartilage crunched, blood poured. He caught the third's arm, twisted it behind his back, and drove a knee into his ribs with another crunch. All three men collapsed, groaning and bleeding.
The park fell silent. People stared.
Alexander stood over them, ice-cold and utterly calm.
"Alexander…" I whispered, fingers tapping rapidly against my thigh, foot rubbing frantically. "You…"
He turned to me. "They tried to touch you."
The vendor looked pale but relieved. "Thank you, sir. They've been bothering people all evening."
Alexander ignored him, taking my hand and intertwining our fingers. "You dropped your ice cream."
I squeezed his hand and walked back to the car with him, still bouncing on my toes.
Once inside, I adjusted my seatbelt twice until it felt right. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. Fingers tapped rapidly. Foot rubbed hard against ankle.
Alexander pulled away calmly, one hand on the wheel, the other on my thigh. The three men were still on the ground behind us. Someone had probably called the police.
"Alexander…" I swallowed. "You just broke their bones. In public. Like it was nothing."
He glanced at me, expression blank. "They tried to touch you. They insulted you."
I rocked slightly in my seat. "There will be consequences. People saw. This isn't logical. You can't just… break people's wrists because they said mean things."
"I can. And I will. Every single time someone tries to hurt you."
My tapping grew faster. "You have no remorse. You look like you would do it again right now."
His hand squeezed my thigh possessively. "I would. I'd break every bone in their bodies if they touched you again. I don't feel bad about protecting you, Dashiell."
I leaned my head against the window, trying to quiet the loud static in my brain. "You're terrifying. But… you protected me. Thank you."
"Always."
He took my hand again, thumb stroking slowly over my knuckles. "Breathe. You're safe. I've got you."
I squeezed back, still rocking gently. "I know. I just… need a minute. My brain is very loud right now."
He was truly a psychopath, dangerous, ruthless, and completely without remorse. Yet despite everything that had just happened, I felt safer with him than anywhere else in the world.