Judging by the sounds echoing from the building, we didn’t have time to spare.
“No more killing,” Parker growled while strolling across the parking lot behind me.
Famous last words…
We stepped through the door and took in the mayhem. Mason was by the bar throwing punches at four guys, and Silas was on the other side of the room. One guy had his arms pinned behind his back while the other two were taking turns jabbing him in the gut. But the redhead being held down made the corner of my mouth twitch.
Little Harper Callaghan wasn’t faring as well as her boyfriend. My gaze trickled over the arms holding her down on the ground, then up to the crooked smile on another Skever’s face.
He tipped his head down at Harper and cupped his crotch, “You sure are a pretty little thing.”
And just like that, my brother snapped.
Parker charged across the room and slammed his shoulder into the chest of the guy smiling at Harper. Satisfaction rolled through me as I watched his body fly through the air and crash into a nearby table. Before the sound of the table breaking could resonate in my ears, Parker picked up a chair and broke it on the face of the one holding her down. Then took the splintered piece of wood in his hand and stabbed it in his leg.
And it didn’t stop there. Parker plucked him off the ground as if the fucker weighed nothing. He slammed his body into the other guy, who was just starting to pull himself up.
The sickening crunch cracked through the air and alerted the others to our presence. They all turned to look as Parker kicked a jukebox over on his victims.
Someone screamed, probably Harper, while two others made a break for the door. A bullet to the leg stopped that. They weren’t going anywhere. Not until my brother was done. And he was nowhere near burned out.
I sat down and watched as Parker made his way around the room, painting the walls with blood and bone. It was beautiful, like a graceful dance of pain and rage.
Silas and Mason tried to help, but it quickly became evident they were just in Parker’s way. So they grabbed Harper and joined me at the only table still standing.
Keeping my eyes on my brother, I pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one.
“You can’t smoke in here.”
All three of us turned to look at Harper as she lifted her finger to point at a sign. “It says so right there.”
My brother was crushing people to death with whatever he could grab, and she was worried about a bit of smoke.
I rolled my eyes over to Mason. “Why the fuck did you bring her here?”
“This was where the fight was. A fight I won, by the way.”
“Was the prize getting your girlfriend raped?”
Mason’s green eyes narrowed. “I’d never let anyone touch her.”
“You were doing a bang-up job of protecting her.” He should’ve never brought her here in the first place.
“I had everything under control,” Mason said. That made me snort. Control and Mason didn’t go together.
Mason tipped his head at Silas. “Back me up here.”
“Fuck you,” he growled. “I told you we shouldn’t come here.”
“What’s wrong with this place?” Mason looked around the bar.
“It’s fucking New Haven, you idiot.”
I was with Silas on that one.
“What the fuck were you trying to prove?” Silas barked.
That was the dumbest question I’d ever heard. Silas was Mason’s best friend. Why, I had no idea, but he should’ve known better than anyone why Mason wanted to come here. It wasn’t about trying to prove something to someone else. As much as everyone deluded themselves into thinking everything was fine with Mason and Harper, they weren’t. Sure, they said, ‘They’d figured shit out.’ But that was bullshit. Mason traded hating Harper for guilt over not seeing what was really happening.
