“Name one!” he snarls.
“Mom.”
Brax scoffs and argues back. I stare at Charlotte as she cowers but keeps reasoning. “Well! Grayson served time. He’s good.”
He glares at her, disgusted. “What is your goddamn obsession with Grayson, you peepin’ pervert?”
But then—
His head whips toward me, eyes cold, gun still in hand. “You’re not fuckin’ my sister, are you?”
I shake my head fast. I’m unarmed and in no condition to brawl. My arm feels broken.
He holds the gun pointed at the ceiling in a threatening stance, his gaze snapping to Killian and Liam. “Nobodyfucks my sister.Understood?”
Everyone nods, dead silent.
“Good. Now pack your shit and go. Same with you, Killian. Get out of here. I need to call my boss,” Brax adds, disappearing onto the patio with his phone.
Liam helps Atticus stand, comforting him with compliments.
“What should we do?” Killian asks.
I know what to do, so I reply, “I’ll get my stuff. We’ll go make some money. Give me fifteen.”
He nods.
“Grayson.” Charlotte startles me as she steps close, now clothed properly, eyes wide, bottom lip trembling. She reaches toward my neck.
I flinch, then I slap her hand away.
She sulks. I see it. The hurt in her eyes.
Good.
“Don’t.” My voice is hoarse, my tone as angry as I can come off.
That dumb, clueless look on her face?
It makes mesick.
“Your brother’s right,” I scold. “You’re cooked. What a dumb fucking—” I choke on the rest. Can’t even say it.
A distant, quiet part of me aches to hold her, protect her, never let her go. Fucking leash her to my side because she’s too stupid to be alone. But the real me? I want to choke some goddamn sense into her. Scare her so badly she never trusts anyone again. Especially me.
I can’t do either, though.
Therefore, I turn to leave to pack my things.
She follows.
Shealwaysfucking follows.
She slips inside my room before I can shut the door, then grabs my forearm like I belong to her.
Thump!
I slam her back into the wall, hellbent on terrifying her.
