Chase, who pushed between the gaping spectators and put himself between us and Danny, makes himself a roadblock. A really big, muscular roadblock that makes my mouth go dry.
But deep inside his drug haze, Danny doesn't register Chase's sheer size.
"C'mon, man, you need to go." A massive, bronze bicep bends up as Chase raises his hands to stop Danny.
"I need to t-talk to Ember." His bares his teeth and tries to dodge past.
"I can't go with him!" Ember cries.
"You don't have to. We'll take care of this," I tell her, putting my arms back to pen her in, so I can reassure her without looking away from the guys.
Unfortunately, our voices catch Chase's attention and he turns his head a hair to check on us. His eyes flick to me, concerned. Then, with the impeccable timing of a junkie, Danny throws a punch that takes snaps Chase's head to the side, and pushes to get past.
Chase jerks, grunts, scrambles for purchase. I brace and open my mouth to cry out, but Danny's already moving.
