I look at Kenneth and find his face red, his lips pressed tight. He doesn’t look as murderous as I’d be if someone touched my sister, and she was in so much pain. Instead, he looks like he can barely hold back a laugh as his arm is wrapped around her back.
One of the man’s friends steps closer and leans over to whisper something into his ear. Beard’s eyes dart around the bar before landing on Leila, who shakes against Kenneth, crying. The same people who nodded in support of him don’t look so sure anymore.
The man clears his throat. “I mean, I guess my nose is alright.”
“Are you sure, man?” Kenneth asks. “Because I’d be happy to call the cops. My sister got hurt pretty badly.”
He looks around tensely before nodding. “Yeah, I’m ’lright.”
He takes a second to get himself together, and they scatter away from the bar. My eyes are trained on Kenneth and Leila. I want to be the one to comfort her, but I can’t, so instead of doing something stupid like going to them, pushing Benson away, and enveloping her in a hug that’ll hide her from the rest of the world, I walk to the bar and tell the bartender to close my tab.
I leave more than a generous tip—because bartenders and waiters don’t get paid enough to deal with all this bullshit—for the troubles we brought and follow Kenneth and Leila. He’s still hiding her face in his underarm as they walk.
Outside, we silently walk to her car and get inside. Kenneth goes to the back seat and plants his ass behind Leila, stretching his legs out on the seat, leaving me to take the passenger side.
When the doors are shut behind us, I demand answers.
“What the fuck was that, Benson?” I look back at him. “Why didn’t you let me go at him?”
“Because you were ready to kill him, idiot.”
“And?” I still don’t get why he stopped me.
“Wanna spend the rest of your life in jail for the murder of a homophobic asshole who doesn’t deserve the time of the day?”
“He hurther.” I nod toward Leila as she silently watches me with wide eyes. “He deserved that. She was in pain.” I hiss the last words, and her eyes widen even more.
“He accidentally swung at her, but the hit was tiny. He didn’t do any damage.”
“She was in pain. Sheisin pain.” I shift my attention to her. “How is your shoulder? We need to go to the hospital.”
“I’m fine.” Her voice comes out as a squeak. I’ve never heard this tone before.
“You’re not. You were crying.” I gesture back to the bar.
“I wasn’t crying.” Her big gray eyes do two slow, adorable blinks.
“What was that, then?” I narrow my eyes.
“A performance for your benefit,” Kenneth explains with a raised brow. “And if you weren’t so engrossed in your,” he clears his throat, “feelings, you’d have seen it too.”
“What do you mean?” I look between them. I don’t think Leila’s blinked once since those two times—she just watches me, her mouth slightly ajar—as her brother stares me down.
“You attacked a man in a bar, full of patrons, and broke his nose, and it all happened in a span of a second. Not everyone saw him hitting Leila. I don’t know if anyone even did because we were standing pretty close together. So, to everyone else, you went off the rails and attacked a regular back there. Do you catch my drift?”
I shake my head.
“She pretended to be in pain, so the man would direct his attention to what he did instead of calling the cops and pressing charges.” He raises his eyebrows. “Get it now?”
“Oh.” It finally clicks.
“Yeah,oh.” He stretches his hand out and grabs a water bottle from between Leila and me. “Can we go home now? I’m too old for that shit.” With that, he leans back.
Leila snorts loudly and starts the engine. “I bet you were the one starting the fight.”
“I was not!” he exclaims, trying to hide his smile.
“Sure you weren’t.” Her light laugh tickles my chest from the inside, making me all warm and fuzzy. I write it off on the adrenaline surge. “I told you, you need to find a woman already—you’re getting too restless,” Leila continues, unaware of the weird feeling I’m having.
