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I heard it as soon as I was halfway down.
Slamming.
Cursing.
Hisses of pain.
The crunch that could only be fists hitting flesh.
My stomach clenched at the idea of that flesh being hers.
It didn't seem to matter that I knew she could take care of herself, that she had likely been in more than a few fights in her life, that she was strong and smart and trained.
But that was before.
Before I knew her.
Before I learned to care for her.
Before she became mine, whether she bristled at that idea or not.
There was a slam - body hitting a wall.
Stomach twisting at the idea that someone dared put their hands on what was mine made anger like battery acid burn through my veins.
And let's not forget the fact that those hands were warped, twisted, willing to touch his sisters the way no man should ever be able to think of without feeling sick.
Saying fuck it to the idea of letting Lou fight her own battles, not knowing if Monty was alone in there, if she was outnumbered, if she even had a shot at handling herself, I threw open the door, taking in the room in seconds.
The living room melted into the kitchen. The walls were a deep gray - too dark for a small space, the furniture all black, masculine, flat.
A glass was shattered against the wall, liquid splattering, glass shards littering the floor, just waiting for bare feet to slice into. The bottle that had filled it was spillin' its contents onto the linoleum of the kitchen floor from where it was tipped over the edge of the counter.
The coffee table was turned on its side, remotes lying around haphazardly.
Something had been thrown at the TV, the glass beneath shattered, breaking the picture into a million little nothings.
And then there they were.
Lou and Monty.
He looked a bit like her.
Same skin.
Same hair.
Same eyes.
Softer facial features for a guy.
But taller.
And strong.
Street strong - all arms and shoulders tapering down to a thin waist and small legs.
But still strong.
Stronger than Lou.
Who he was holding against the wall by her throat.
Her lip was split, bleeding half-heartedly like it was hardly worth the effort to make a big deal out of it. There was a darkened spot on her cheek that was likely a bruise in the making.
Otherwise, okay.
Dressed.
Spittin' fucking mad.
Fighting.
Even though she was at a clear disadvantage.
"You think you can come charging into my life fucking fifteen years later, and what? Take me out? You out of your fucking mind? Do you know who I am?"
He didn't actually want her to answer, his hand closing tighter around her throat, making her lips fall open, hoping for air that was not there to take in.
The anger mingled with a bone-deep understanding that she would never forgive me if I took this away from her.
But I couldn't let her be fucking choked out either.
Unsure what else to do, I moved in, and slammed the door, making Monty's head turn in my direction, his hand loosening just enough, giving her what she needed to break free, grabbing his wrist as she spun, spinning him as well, slamming his whole front against the wall, jacking his arm up so high that I heard - even clear across the room - a crunch of his bones turning to useless dust.
His scream only seemed to fuel her rage.
"Yes, I do think I can turn up here after fifteen years and take you out. For raping our sister," she screeched, yanking the arm up further still, making even me cringe, no matter how much I knew the fuck deserved it.
"She's fucking dead. You want to get dead too? 'Cause my boys will be turning up any minute."
"You're not even sorry, are you? For Sammy. For Dad and Mom? There's not a bit of remorse in you for what happened."
"Fuck them all. They were happy to kick me outta the house."
"Then you went ahead and showed them exactly why they were right to do so. You raped your own sister, you disgusting fuck."
I knew she needed to have this out, but we really did need to get the fuck out of here. Even if he hadn't gotten a chance to throw up a flag, his men might come and go all day without notice.
"You didn't give a shit about her either, Lou Lou," Monty said, shrugging.
"She was my sister. I loved her."
"You loved me more."
I felt the gut-punch, knowing it had been true for most of their lives, knowing she felt the same kick to her center as I did.
"That ended the second you let them drag us up on that roof, throw our sister on a slab, and gang rape her, you fucking bastard. I've never hated anyone as much as I have hated you for the last fifteen years. You ruined everything,"
That was it.
