Dean manages to push himself up on his haunches, holding his broken arm and whimpering like a pathetic little b***h.
"It was just jokes, bro… just jokes…" he croaks.
I turn to glare at him murderously.
His eyes go huge in fear as he scrambles back, holding out a hand. "I-I didn't mean it. No, no, no… don't…"
A brutal kick to his stomach cuts him off, and he doubles over, puking beer all over the carpet.
Baron has managed to crawl away from the shattered coffee table, blood dripping from a cut above his eye.
I walk over and crouch in front of him.
"Now, listen carefully," I say, holding up three fingers.
"You don't look at Ashleigh," I state clearly, dropping one finger.
"You don't speak to her." The second finger drops.
"You don't go near her… You don't even breathe near her."
