They don’t hesitate.
They move.
Alex reaches me first, his hands steady on my shoulders, his voice calm in a way that makes everything else feel sharper.
“Where?”
I point back toward the alley, my arm shaking so badly I can barely hold it still.
“There,” I manage. “Behind the bakery. They’re hurting him.”
Emma is already beside me.
Alex nods once.
Chris is out of the pub before anyone else, moving fast enough that appears almost like a blur. Tommy follows immediately, his expression stripped of everything except focus. Nick and Rob are right behind them, their usual ease gone, replaced by something harder.
Emma grabs my hand.
“Come on.”
We follow them out into the night.
The cold air hits my lungs like shock as we run. The alley feels impossibly far away now, stretched by fear and the memory of the sound his body made when they hit him.
Chris reaches it first and disappears into the darkness without slowing. Tommy is a step behind him, then Nick, then Rob. Alex slows only long enough to make sure we’re still there, his eyes flicking to Emma, to me, then he turns and goes in after them.
Emma doesn’t let go of my hand.
We enter the alley together.
Three figures are already pulling away, sprinting toward the far end. One of them glances back briefly before they disappear into the dark, their footsteps fading fast.
Cowards.
My attention snaps forward.
Phil is on the ground.
Alex is beside him, already kneeling, one hand on Phil’s shoulder, the other hovering near his jaw like he’s afraid to move him too quickly.
Chris stands over them, breathing hard, his hands still clenched. Tommy and Nick flank them instinctively, creating space, their bodies angled outward in case the men come back. Rob stands slightly behind, his face pale in the weak light.
Phil moves.
Just slightly.
His chest rises.
His eyes open.
They find mine immediately.
I drop to my knees beside him.
“Phil.”
My voice breaks on his name.