JAKE
If there’s one thing that I hate, it’s bullies. Especially when they target women.
The three times that I got in trouble at school, it was for fighting—but not for bullying. The difference seemed to fly over my parents’ heads, just as it had for the school administration, but it still exists. I’m more than justified in diving in on some bastard who has decided to pick on someone smaller and less savage than him.
When I saw that slovenly creep tossing around a sweet-faced, delicate-looking girl like that, I lost it for a few moments. I barely remember rushing across the pavement, swiping my card, and kicking the door open. Time didn’t turn normal again until the moment my fist smashed into his reddened, smirking face.
I could have hit him a lot harder. I wanted to. But all I could
