Chapter 157
Chapter 157:
The boy’s rage was palpable, like a coiled spring ready to snap, each word he spat more venomous than the last.
“Stop it, Beckett!” Bonita cried, tears streaming down her face. “Why can’t you just talk? Why turn this into a spectacle?”
Beckett Ramirez lunged forward, grabbing her face roughly, forcing her lips to contort under the pressure of his grip.
The grease from his hair seeped into his eyes, making them sting, but his face only hardened with anger.
His neck veins bulged, his fists quivering as if restraining an urge to unleash further violence.
Bonita winced, tears flowing freely as humiliation and pain overwhelmed her.
Fernanda, her expression ice-cold, stepped forward and clamped her hand around Beckett’s wrist.
“Let her go,” she said, her voice steady and sharp. “Don’t make me force you.”
Beckett glared, his lips parting to hurl another curse, but a loud clamor outside cut him off as police officers entered the scene. The officers swiftly restrained Beckett, urging everyone to remain calm and cooperate.
Bonita stumbled free, and Fernanda and Wendy positioned themselves protectively in front of her.
The restaurant emptied, leaving a tense silence as the surveillance footage was reviewed to piece together the truth.
The girls sat on one side, their gazes unwavering, while the boys glowered from the opposite end, their hostility palpable.
Still simmering with frustration, Beckett stormed into the restroom, scrubbing furiously at the sticky oil in his hair. No matter how hard he tried, it refused to budge.
In a rage, he threw a punch at the mirror, shattering it into a glittering mess.
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When the damage was reported, the police caught Beckett red-handed, dragging him out as he thrashed and swore like a madman. The surveillance footage sealed his fate, confirming his group had…
Instigated by the chaos, as the officers led him away, Beckett shot Bonita a look so venomous it made her shiver.
“Don’t worry,” Sloane said softly, resting a reassuring hand on Bonita’s back. “We’ve got you.”
Bonita glanced at her friends and whispered a thank you.
“No need to thank us,” Wendy replied, her tone cutting as she flicked her hair. “I just can’t stand men like him. Clinging to you when you clearly don’t want him—it’s revolting.”
Fernanda immediately caught on. Beckett’s behavior had struck a nerve, reminding Wendy of Bobby.
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