Page 44 of Playing with Desire
Chapter Fifteen
Three days later,Summer had to give Declan credit for avoiding her and Rick as much as possible. In the mornings when she left for the shop, he was already gone, though she had no idea where. She could only assume that he came home during the day while she and Rick were at work, but he never showed up at dinnertime. It was usually a few hours later, and when he walked into the house, he went directly to his room, though there was no mistaking the brooding air about him, tinged with an underlying anger that seemed to be simmering beneath the surface.
The few times that their paths had crossed, he didn’t acknowledge her, and her heart was silently breaking. And the tension between him and Rick was nearly palpable, and she felt responsible for that rift, too. Rick assured her that Declan would come around, and she had to trust what he said, considering they’d grown up together and Rick knew him best.
So, she kept to her normal routine. Working. Cooking dinner. Searching for an apartment in the evenings. She had a new lead she intended to follow up on tomorrow, and that, at least, gave her something to look forward to.
Today, though, when she arrived at the house after work, with a bag of groceries in her arms to make dinner, she heard two male voices shouting back and forth—though she couldn’t make out what they were bellowing about. The argument wasn’t in the house, and with a concerned frown, she followed the sound through the kitchen, where she dropped off the food items on the counter, then walked to the sliding door that led to the backyard. She looked out the window, surprised to see Rick and Declan facing each other, standing on the concrete pad near the pool, both of their expressions pissed off as she caught the tail end of their yelling match.
Clearly, the tension between stepbrothers had finally come to a head.
“I asked you to watch Summer, not fuck her!” Declan hollered, both his hands curled into fists at his sides, his face ruddy from the rage that seemed to be spilling from him.
“Stop being an asshole,” Rick shot back in a voice loud enough she was certain the neighbors could hear. “You’re just being pissy because she didn’t wait for you. And why should she? You fucking broke her heart and gave her nothing to hope for!”
With a low, feral growl and with eyes filled with fury, Declan abruptly lunged at Rick, knocking him to the ground on his back. She gasped as fists started flying from both men while they rolled around on the concrete, their clenched hands connecting with jaws, cheeks, temples as their tempers exploded. The fight was down and dirty, with both holding their own, but they were beating each other to a pulp in the process, with no sign of stopping.
She stared in shock as she watched them unleash all the hostility and aggression that had been brewing between them over the past few days. While a part of her had the thought that a fistfight was probably the brothers’ way of dealing with their differences and built-up antagonism, the rational part of her brain told her that if she didn’t stop them, they were going to kill each other. Over her, apparently, and God, she’d never wanted to come between that sibling bond.
She rushed outside and onto the deck that overlooked the pool area, feeling a sense of panic as she saw blood smeared on Declan’s face. “Stop!” she screamed, her high-pitched voice distraught. “Both of you!”
It was like she didn’t exist. The sounds of fists hitting flesh rent the air along with grunts of pain and a shirt ripping as Rick grabbed the collar of Declan’s cotton tee to get the upper hand to flip him onto his back.
They were like wild animals, and Summer knew she’d only get hurt herself if she got close enough to try to pry them apart. She glanced around the area, and seeing a garden hose, she ran toward it, turned on the water as high and hard as it would go, then pointed the full blast toward the two men’s heads, soaking them while continuing to yell at them to stop.
The water obscured their vision, and they had no choice but to finally break apart. As soon as Rick rolled off of Declan, she tossed down the hose. They both lay on their backs, breathing heavily and trying to gain their bearings after so many hits to the face, stomach, and who knew where else.
She marched down to where they were, so damn furious at each of them. “You both are idiots!”
Despite the scratches and cuts on his face and what appeared to be a split and swollen lip, Rick smirked at her as he got to his feet, his wet shirt clinging to his chest. Declan did the same while glaring at his stepbrother, a bit of fire still left in his gaze as he swiped at the blood dripping down from a laceration near his brow.
“Are you finished getting all that bottled-up anger and resentment out of your systems?” she demanded, looking to each man as she jammed her hands on her hips.
“Maybe,” Rick said, and judging by the thread of humor in his voice, he wasn’t at all upset by their tussle. It was as if he’d known it was going to happen, that releasing all the tension between him his stepbrother would eventually come down to a physical altercation. “I’ll let Declan decide if he feels the need to go another round, just to make sure he’s gotten everything off his chest.”
Panicked, she immediately stepped between the two men, holding her arms out for fear that they would start all over again. “No more, please.”
Rick arched a brow at Declan, acceding to him.
“We’re done,” he said gruffly.
Relieved by his assent, Summer dropped her hands back down to her sides. As she eyed Declan, she was shocked to see all the stress and strain from the past few days leave his body. His rigid shoulders visibly relaxed, and the animosity gradually vanished, too, as if he was so tired of carrying around so many burdens over the past few days. Not just coping with the issue of her and Rick but also the decisions weighing heavily on him about his military career.
Her lips pursed as she took in their bruising faces and even the scratches on their knuckles. “You’re both cut and bleeding.”
“We’re fine,” Rick said casually, as if it was no big deal.
“Go sit at the kitchen table.” She pointed toward the house, her tone brooking no further argument. “I’ll decide if you two are fine or need any stitches.” She didn’t think the latter was the case, but she wanted to clean up their battle wounds to be sure neither of them needed to make a trip to urgent care.
“Jesus,” Declan muttered as he and Rick started toward the back deck. “When did she get so fucking bossy?”
Rick laughed. “I’m not sure, but I kind of like all that confidence and sass.”
Summer was surprised when Declan grunted in what she could only guess was an agreement.
Once they were all inside the kitchen, she pointed to the table. “Sit down. Both of you. I’ll be right back.”
Shockingly, they obeyed, remaining seated and quiet—but no longer hostile toward one another—until she returned with the first-aid kit she’d seen in the spare bathroom. She started with Rick, wiping the blood from the split lip, scratched cheek, and scraped jaw with a peroxide pad. The cut at his mouth wasn’t as bad as she initially thought, but since it was in an awkward place, she couldn’t cover the lesion with a Band-Aid, so she dabbed a bit of healing ointment on it for now to make sure it didn’t get infected.
