I groan as my body struggles to suck in a breath.
He smirks and shakes my head, pulling out strands of my hair. “October tenth, you’re mine.”
I finally catch my breath and bare my teeth. “You’re a pussy.”
His face falls in shock thatI, a “stupid” girl, would call him something that “emasculating.” I laugh through the pain, and when it starts, it doesn’t stop. My laughter grows louder, peeling and echoing in the narrow space.
“You’re so fucking dead!” He shoves me down with the intention of straddling me.
I roll to the side, gritting my teeth and ignoring the pain as I jump to my feet and get all of two strides away from Mickey before my steps falter and I stop dead in my tracks.
A tall biker with a tinted black helmet over his head stands three feet away. I don’t know how long he’s watched what happened, but I know Mickey is so screwed now that my brother is here.
“What the fuck do you want?” Mickey snarls.
I don’t look behind me to watch Mickey’s face crumple when he realizes it’s Jaxon. I keep my eyes on Jaxon like he’s a god riding in on a black armored horse. The ex-football player doesn’t stand a chance against my brother.
Jaxon takes careful steps toward me, his head slightlytilting as he assesses every bruise and cut on my body. I don’t need to see his face to know he’s counting them. He stops in front of me and tucks his gloved fingers under my chin to lean my head back. I look at my reflection in the tinted helmet.
“Jaxon,” I whisper.
His thumb brushes my lower lip, gently, like a lover’s caress, and then he drops his hand and looks at Mickey. Slowly, he removes his helmet and shakes out his wavy black hair until it falls over his forehead. His earring chain with a flower dangling at the bottom flicks with his movements and taps against his neck. Jaxon glares at Mickey, shadows caressing his face.
“Ohh man,” I mumble to Mickey, who takes a step back. “You’re so fucked.”
Jaxon eases me aside, and I suck in a painful breath as he gives me a warning look before he walks toward Mickey. It’s the same look as all the other times he’s put people in the hospital.
I step into my brother’s path, not wanting Mickey to lose his life, no matter how much he hurt me.
“Jaxon,” I murmur, hoping my voice draws him back from the dark recesses of his mind.
Mickey whimpers but raises his chin, attempting to look stronger than he actually is at this moment.
I raise my hand to touch the back of Jaxon’s shoulder, but I hesitate. He doesn’t like it when people touch him, and I don’t want to cross any boundaries, but I don’t want him to murder this jerk, either. Mickey isn’t worth it.
Mickey takes two steps backward, losing all the courage he had when it was just the two of us. “It’s not what it looks like,” he says, his voice quivering.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Jaxon repeats softly. He raises his helmet in front of him, his gloved fingersdigging into the soft material on the inside of it as he studies it like all the answers in the world are written there.
“Oh no,” I say softly, right as my brother lunges toward Mickey with his arm swinging backward, hand gripping his helmet.
My helmet slams against the side of Mickey’s face. He screams like the little bitch he is, his body twisting from the force of the hit. Giving him no time to collect himself, I swing again. The helmet connects with the back of his head, and he crashes to the ground like a dead tree that finally tumbles after the trunk can’t handle the stress.
I follow him and pin him down with all of my weight. I toss my helmet aside and punch him repeatedly, barely feeling anything but the need to hurt him. To kill him.
He hurt my sister. The one person I give a fuck about.
Mickey screams, and it ends with a grunt. “You asshole!”
“Jaxon.” Dahlia’s voice becomes farther away, like Mickey’s as he pleads for his life.
I fist his shirt, supporting his upper half while I punch him until black edges into my periphery. It creeps over the crimson, creating an odd combination. Everything dims except for my need to punish Mickey for once again hurting my sweet little sister.
“Jaxon!” Dahlia yells louder than I’ve ever heard her.
The black in my vision takes over, and everything goes dark.
Arms wrap around me as I come to, and a head leans against my chest, right over my heart. I blink until the black dots stop blinding me. Glancing to the side, I notice we’re near the woods, on the shoulder of a winding road at the bottom of Vail Mountain.
