Page 147 of Forever Relentless

I mean . . . for all I knew, she thought this was a one-and-done, whereas I was already thinking of punching every guy who had ever hurt her. Or whoever looked at her again.

I picked up a lock of her dark hair. Its purple sheen was nice, but I wanted to know what her actual hair color was. Mason had dark-brown hair; was hers the same?

Thinking of Mason while lying naked in bed with his sister was not where my head needed to be. But I did want to know how the social media posts were being received, and my phone was in my suit jacket.

I got out of bed, snagged my boxers, and left the room without disturbing her.

Phone in hand, I looked around her kitchen. I don’t drink coffee, but I wanted to make her some and then realized I didn’t know if she did. There was a machine, but it looked so new, I wasn’t sure it had even been used.

I opted for a bottle of water from her fridge and sat down to scroll social media.

Two more posts last night, both inflammatory, both with hundreds of comments. More and more people were saying they knew someone or something had happened to a friend, and I wanted to DM them all for details.

I checked my messages next and had nothing from either of my friends, and one message from my brother.

Tate: I need to talk to you. Are you awake?

I sat up straighter and immediately called him. The text had come in the early hours of the morning.

“Noah?” He sounded groggy, like I woke him up. The fact that he’d been asleep helped ease my worry.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, moving to the kitchen window, which was furthest from her bedroom door.

“Brock Bronson.”

I rolled my shoulders back. Do not lose your temper.

“What happened?” I asked calmly, while my temper soared.

“Don’t overreact.”

Too late. “Just tell me.”

“I got in a fight with him.”

He could have said anything else, and my jaw wouldn’t have dropped as it did now. “He hit you?”

“No, Noah. I hit him.” Tate’s voice turned wobbly. “I’m suspended.”

“What the fuck do you mean you’re suspended?” I could feel the rage burning. “That prick has bullied you for years!”

“They said I was unprovoked and I just . . . I just laid into him.”

I was back on the couch, sitting down, my head not quite accepting what was happening.

“What? You?” I heard his sharp inhale. “No, no, don’t get excited. Tell me what happened. Exactly what happened.”

“Well, he’s been more of a dick to me than I told you,” Tate rushed on when he knew I was going to react. “And I know you, Noah. You were going to come down here and swoop in and save your geeky little brother, and you have such a big future, I couldn’t let you risk it because I’m too weak to stand up to a bully like Bronson. So,” he took a big breath. “I stood up to him.”

“You hit him!” I grinned; I couldn’t help it.

“Several times. I don’t think he was expecting it,” Tate said sheepishly.

I covered my mouth to stop my laughter. It wasn’t funny, but it was. “I’m so damn proud of you, kid.”

Tate sounded relieved. “Well, thanks. But I got suspended. So, maybe hold the pride.”

“Nah. You’re a rockstar, Tate. I mean, is he hurt? What are you suspended for? People fight all the time.” There was no way my little brother would have caused much harm; he would lose a fight with a wet paper bag.