While our eyes were still fixed on the two-meter giant, Demir muttered tensely.
"They're not planning to fight fair."
I glanced behind me, then studied the men again before replying.
"I don't think they blocked the exits for us. They'll use the girls as leverage to stop us from fighting back. We need to find a way to get them out."
"Leave that to me."
At Mete's comment, I turned toward the pair I hadn't even noticed approaching us.
"How are you going to get them out?"
"Just draw the guys' attention somewhere else. I'll handle the rest."
I hesitated for a brief moment, then nodded, aware that we didn't have a better option.
"Alright." Then I turned to Efe. "You go with Mete too. Don't leave Duru's side until I get back."
He glanced at the men, then looked at us uncertainly.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"It's fine. Just keep an eye on the girls."
When Efe opened his mouth to object again, Mete grabbed his arm. Casting me a sideways glance like he knew something, he cut in.
"We don't have time for this, Big Guy. Don't doubt that they can handle things without us."
Efe frowned and turned to Mete.
"I really don't like you calling me that."
"I don't care. I like calling you that. Come on, Big Guy."
As Mete grinned and started dragging Efe—who kept grumbling—toward the girls standing a few steps behind us, I refocused on the men in front of us. When my eyes found Can, standing among three or four bulky guys and watching me with a sly smile, I let out a weary sigh. I didn't know how he did it every time, but he had a special talent for finding men who had a problem with us—especially with me—and somehow pulling them to his side to stir up trouble.
For years, whenever he caused chaos in my life, I reminded myself it was all a misunderstanding and that he wasn't really to blame. But the real reason I'd allowed Can to keep coming after me for so long was that I blamed myself even more than he did.
Of course, another factor was that none of the previous incidents had involved such a large crowd armed with clubs. Still, something told me this over-the-top welcoming committee had more to do with the bar owner than with Can himself.
And the reason for that was, of course, the infamous bar fight Rüzgar had mentioned.
That fight had actually broken out over something that had nothing to do with us. Somehow, it spilled over to us, escalated, and turned violent.
When the night ended at the police station, the bar owner had been taken into custody on serious charges. In the days that followed, I'd heard that his brother had taken over the bar—someone who wasn't necessarily more aggressive than his brother, but was a cowardly piece of shit all the same.
Most likely, the real reason he'd lent his men to Can was so he could pin the blame on him if things got out of control. But regardless of the situation, seeing Can lose control enough to ally himself with someone like that didn't sit well with me at all.
Another thing that crossed my mind whenever I looked at Can was my hopeless wish to undo everything that had happened that night.
When our eyes met, I could tell from the crack in his cocky expression—the one he used to mask his pain—that he remembered that night too, and that he wished for the same thing. But what was done was done, and no matter what we did, the past wouldn't change.
Still… if only we'd managed to talk things out instead of fighting just once—
The moment his entire face tensed and the hatred that had never faded over the years flared up in his eyes, I knew that possibility had flown right out the window. Just like every time before.
As if to confirm my suspicion about the girls, his gaze flicked to a point behind me and then returned to me. That earlier sly smile came back, this time with a far more unsettling confidence. He leaned toward the man beside him and whispered something in his ear, then straightened and looked me in the eye.
"Get them!"
The instant the order left his mouth, the men rushed us. Without managing to come up with any kind of distraction, we found ourselves right in the middle of the fight.
While doing everything I could to keep any of them from reaching the girls, I drove one of my hardest punches straight into the nose of the man in front of me. As he groaned in pain and clutched his bleeding nose, I seized the moment to glance at the girls—I needed to be sure they were still safe.
Still under the influence of alcohol, they were a bit dazed, watching the chaos in front of them without knowing what to do. So far, so good. But two of the men had reached Mete and Efe—and that was a problem. I hurled a heavy curse and turned back.
I thought I was too late to avoid the bat swinging toward my face. When the man suddenly stopped and collapsed to the floor, I lifted my confused gaze from the body at my feet.
"I told you, you're not alone."
Trying to make sense of Bora's strange behavior as he stood in front of me holding what was left of a chair he'd shattered over the man's head, I barely had time to react.
When another large man approached us from the side, Bora shrieked, threw the piece of wood away, and darted to my other side. Relieved to see him back to normal, I smiled and turned to face the man.
When I saw the iron rod swinging toward my face, I grabbed the wrist holding it and hit him hard in the middle of his stomach. His breath left him in a sharp gasp.
"What do you have against my face anyway, huh?"
"Because you're smooth as cream, baby. Of course they're jealous."
Before he could recover from the punch, I kicked him hard in the side. He dropped the rod. As he clutched his stomach in pain, I finished it with a solid punch to his jaw, sending him crashing to the side. Bora popped up behind me, grinning, hands planted on his hips.
"Did you see that? We were awesome! Don't you think we make a great team, Adonis?"
"Yes, Curly. I really don't know how I'd have managed without you hiding behind me."
He waved his hand in the air, delighted.
"Aww, you're embarrassing me, Adonis."
"Kerem!"