A shout carried from above. A woman's voice. Parker. Another woman, and Tyler. Then Parker again. A deep thump, like something falling over. I flew down the hall, racing up the stairs, the doors flashing by until I reached Tyler's room.
Tyler stood in the doorway, stark naked, an equally naked woman beside him, her arm flung around his neck.
Parker was in the middle of the hall, one hand pressed to her cheek, shoulders slumped, tears streaming from her eyes.
What. The. Fuck?
I reached her side and pulled her hand from her face. Her cheek was already swelling, the skin red and tight. What the fuck? I was going to fucking kill him. With gentle hands, I turned Parker to face the end of the hall and the stairs to the first level.
"Meet me in the kitchen," I said in a low voice. "Walk away and let me handle this."
Parker gave a stiff nod and strode down the hall, her straight back the last thing I saw before I turned to my brother.
"She's stepping out of line," Tyler drawled, "giving me shit about who I can fuck. She leftme. I told her we were going home, and she said she was staying, so I came home. I don't know why she thought I'd sleep alone."
He flicked the dark waves of his hair off his forehead and leaned into the naked woman behind him, reaching around to grope her hip. "Get rid of Parker, would you?" he said to me. "I've got business to take care of up here, and I'm not putting up with this marital spat bullshit. She wants to be a wife? She can come home and be a wife. She's going to stay down there in the boonies? Then this is how it's going to be."
White-hot rage erupted in my skull, blinding me. I didn't decide to do it. I just did. Lunging forward, my fist caught him in the jaw. Tyler flew back, taking the naked woman with him. They sprawled in a tangle of limbs, Tyler's shout of outrage muffled as they scrambled to get back to their feet.
"You had that coming," I said. "I'll go take care of Parker. Mom can deal with you when she gets back."
I left him there without another word. One more minute staring at his smug face, and I might have killed him. I couldn't erase the sight of Parker's red cheek, the tears streaking her cheeks.
I'd known he was cheating, but I'd never imagined he'd lay a hand on her. If I'd known, I would have done everything differently. Everything.
I found Parker in the kitchen, a neat pack of ice pressed to the side of her face. Crossing the room, I pulled it away gently, wrestling for control of my fury. The idea that anyone had hurt her made me want to kill.
And yeah, I get the irony–violence begets more violence and how was me hitting Tyler any better than Tyler hitting Parker? I don't give a fuck about that. It just was. If I hadn't needed to take care of Parker, I don't know what I would have done to my brother.
"Has he done this before?" I asked, dreading what she might say. Her silence was answer enough. "How often?"
"Not– He–" Her head dropped as she studied the granite countertop. "Only a few times, I swear. I told myself it wouldn't happen again, and then it did and–"
"Did you know about the cheating?"
Her head shook. "I should have. I should have known, but I–"
I shoved a cut crystal glass in her hand. She stared down at the amber liquid inside.
"Whiskey. You could use a drink."
Parker shook her head. "I can't. I have to drive–"
"I'm driving. Wherever you're going, I'm driving."
Her eyes flicked to mine, the golden hazel heavy with longing and regret. She shook her head again. "Nash, I can't. This is–" She drew in a short breath. "I can't."
I nudged the hand holding the glass closer to her mouth. "Give me a little credit, Parker. We have time for the rest later. For now, I'm going to get you home to your family, if that's where you want to be."
She nodded immediately. I was relieved to know she had somewhere safe to go. I couldn't bear the thought of her being on her own, and she was right–It wasn't time for us. Not yet.
Parker tossed back the whiskey. "He's still upstairs?"
"I'm assuming. I hit him," I confessed.
A tiny smile curved the corner of Parker's mouth. "Good. Let him see what it feels like."
"I'm happy to do it again," I offered, my heart squeezing at the vindictive edge to her voice. This wasn't the way I would have wanted her shell to crack, her sharp words revealing the spark of the Parker she hid inside. Proper Parker would have scolded me for using my fists, but the real Parker, the Parker I loved, was glad he knew what a fist to the face felt like.
