Word Count: 18,018
Summary of Events:
Brandt got Lark's address from Brandon and went to her door to apologise to her because she wouldn't answer his texts; he also invited her to go quading with him on Friday. Lark decided to accept the invitation and went along. Once everyone was done quading they gathered for a bonfire and Brandt had an altercation with a longtime adversary that caused him to be concerned for Lark's safety. Lark and Brandt enjoyed some snacking around the fire before Lark noticed that Brandt seemed to be getting a little unsettled . . .
Excerpt of the Day:
"She watched as he seemed to be eyeing someone who was approaching; he strode away from her and stood somewhat chested up to a young man that looked somewhat familiar, but even more strongly dislikable.
The way Brandt squared his shoulders and straightened out to his full height — which was quite the height — made Lark feel uncomfortable. Was he going to go getting into a fight with someone?
Quite a bit of the dancing stopped in the immediate vicinity of the two. Lark flinched as the other man flashed the finger at Brandt, who right away gave him a one-handed shove, being as he was still holding his smokie. He even took a vicious bite from it as he stood there.
His opponent shouted a profanity-laden sentence at Brandt, whose response she couldn't hear very well. The two of them continued to argue for quite a bit, with the other man giving Brandt a hard shove.
Brandt had about two bites left of his smokie when the man he was chested up with threw the alcoholic contents of his cup into Brandt's face. Brandt took one of the bites and shoved the remainder of his smokie into the hand of a nearby person before seizing his opponent and starting to fire a series of left hands.
Lark quickly set her bowl aside and surged to her feet. She wanted to stop Brandt, but she hadn't the faintest idea how. Everyone else was watching the fight, with some chanting and cheering, encouraging the altercation.
A crowd was quickly forming around them. Lark hurried forward, noticing that the person Brandt had given the remainder of his smokie to had just shoved it in his mouth, while Brandt's opponent rallied and was swinging some vicious blows at Brandt in return.
"Stop!" Lark cried.
"No!" someone beside her protested. "It's fun! Nothing like a good party without a brawl!"
Lark saw blood on Brandt's fist as it came around, with Brandt having missed his target. She felt horror as she watched the two. The man Brandt was fighting with's face was stained with blood.
She started forward quickly and grabbed Brandt's arm.
"Stop Brandt, please," she said.
Brandt shrugged free of her hold.
"Then give me the keys to your truck," Lark said firmly.
Brandt threw a left, then looked at her, his lips bloodied, and back at his opponent, whose bloodied head was lolling. He dropped his opponent with all the care of a coat and turned toward her.
"He wanted to make a pass at you," Brandt said.
Lark looked over at the downed, moaning man, and then back up at Brandt.
"I want to go home," she said.
"Okay," Brandt said, nodding."
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