Page 45 of Break Me

The next hit to the door splinters wood.

I snatch my jeans off the floor and haul them on.

Raven's fingers tighten around mine. I tighten mine right back.

Whatever happens next, I'm standing between her and it.

No matter the cost.

Raven

All it's going to take is one more hit, and we'll be face-to-face with my father, my brother, and every consequence we've been trying to outrun.

Sam jerks, his breath leaving him in a harsh, pained rush as he sits up.

“No matter what happens,” I say firmly, “I’m not leaving you. Not now. Not ever.”

“Sweetheart,” he swallows hard. “Your father’s about to come through that door and see something he can’t unsee. Something I can’t take back.”

“I don’t care,” I breathe. “I choose you.”

“No matter what happens,” he says, voice ragged. “You stay behind me.”

My mouth opens to argue, to tell him I won't let him face them alone, but the door gives a long, splintering groan. Grabbing the sheet, I yank it to my chest just as the final blow crashes into the door.

The top hinge snaps. The door flies inward.

Knox storms in first, his face twisted with murderous intent. His gaze lands on the bed. On me, half-covered by the sheet. Then on Samuel.

Dad’s right behind him. His face is carved with something infinitely more dangerous.

Samuel doesn’t move. He simply stands there, breath unsteady, spine unbreakable, as if protecting me is the only place in the world he ever belonged.

A sob slips out before I can stop it.

Knox sees red. “You son of a bitch.” He lunges, hitting Samuel so hard his back slams into the dresser.

“Stop,” I scream, clutching the sheet to my chest.

But Knox doesn't stop. Another punch snaps Samuel's head to the side. Then another. His jaw. His ribs. His shoulder. Each blow echoes through the tiny room.

“Enough,” Dad barks.

Knox either doesn't hear him or doesn't care. He surges forward again.

Mouse and Bishop burst into the room, eyes widening as they take in Knox, Samuel, and the chaos exploding between them.

Bishop grabs Knox around the waist, dragging him back. “Knox, what the fuck?”

Mouse wedges himself between them, eyes bouncing from me to Samuel and back to me. “Wolf, tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”

“He touched my sister.” Knox lunges again, dragging Bishop with him. “You’re dead, Wolf.”

“Settle down.” Bishop strains, trying to shove him back.

“Get your hands off me,” Knox roars, swinging again even as Bishop digs his heels in to restrain him. “He’s dead. He’s fucking dead.”

“Stop fighting,” I cry, voice cracking. “Please, just stop.”