Page 73 of Hating On Riot

“Then tell them to get their asses over here, unless you’re too chickenshit to do it.”

I gasp. My eyes are wide. Before I can decide, or even process the steel-lined words from this guy who looks so wholesome, despite the tattoos, with his tan, dark-blond hair, deep blue eyes, chiseled jawline, and friendly smile, Tony is on Brock, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him to his feet.

Unfortunately, Brock beats my brother in the height department by a good five inches, and it’s funny, but not, to see Tony looking up at a man for a change rather than looking down or at eye level.

“What the fuck did you just say to my little sis? Did you call her a coward?”

Brock pries Tony’s fingers off his shirt. “Not the right words, man. I said ‘unless you’re too chickenshit to do it.’”

“Whatever. Sit the fuck down.” He shoves Brock.

Brock stumbles and falls into the seat. But that’s not where Tony wants him. He gestures to the seat next to me. Brock takes his time getting up and sliding in. I end the call and sit with my hands clasped on the table as we wait for Cameron to gather their food and drinks and bring them to our table.

“Talk,” Cameron grunts before he takes a loud sip from his drink through the straw. “My sis doesn’t have all day. She’s cut her Basis of Human Behavior class one too many times, and seeing as how we’re tight with Professor Wilson, my brother and me helping renovate his kitchen and all, she needs to get the fuck home so she can catch up in his class. You hearing me?” Cameron points a thick finger at Brock.

Much to my dismay, Brock squares his shoulders and glares. “She has a right to live her life any way she wants without the two of you interfering.”

“And how do you have the right to demand this of us?”

“Laney.”

Deafening silence falls over our space. Cameron’s expression darkens. Tony looks like he’s ready to reach across the table, grab Brock by his collar, and beat the crap out of him.

“Explain,” Tony grinds out between his teeth.

“Laney and I saw one another behind your backs. Were she alive, she’d tell the two of you to loosen up on your oversight of her twin.”

“Our oversight kept our sisters safe,” Tony whisper-yells, veins bulging in his neck. “Laney wasn’t safe when she disregarded our rules. Her going behind our backs to see a bastard like you, who lured her to that damn meeting spot, was what cost her her life!”

Tony’s face is beet red. The other customers look in our direction.

That’s not true.

“That’s not true,” I blurt out, guilt eating me up for my role in my sister’s death.

Riot is right. It’s time I talk about her and that day.

“It was my fault. I didn’t realize that ‘Riot’ in her contacts was a different guy. I saw the text messages and thought they were seeing each other behind my back. I was pissed. I told her she didn’t deserve to be loved. I said that if she kept seeing him, she’d end up knocked up like our mother and that he would abandon her like our brothers’ fathers.”

I remember that day like it was yesterday. I don’t know where Mom and Christopher were, except they weren’t home. Tony and Cam were out with their friends. Finally, we had the house to ourselves, but instead of enjoying the freedom, we argued because I saw the notifications on Laney’s phone.

“She wouldn’t listen, so I dared her to meet him in that shitty part of the city. If he truly loved her, he would agree.” My clasped hands are blurry. The tears fall, and I let them. “It was my fault she was there. That she died.”

I should’ve trusted my sister. I should’ve trusted her when she said it wasn’t Riot, but she couldn’t tell me more. Damn it, I should’ve just trusted her.

“The exchange of names was my idea,” Brock says, his voice pained. “I’m sorry, Arie. Laney knew you were seeing Riot.”

Of course, she did. Laney was perceptive. She had almost a sixth sense for what was going on around her.

“We can’t change the past, but if it makes you feel better, I forgive you. Forgiving you is the only way to move forward.”

“Thank you, Arie.” He blows out a breath. “I should’ve said ‘fuck, no’ to meeting her there, but whatever Laney wanted, I gave it to her.” He grabs a napkin and starts twisting it. “What I don’t understand is why Riot was there. Laney looked toward us. I was behind Riot. Shots were fired. He headed for her, but she was already gone.”

His voice catches on the last word. He shakes his head and grips the napkins. I lean into him, needing to comfort him. He loved my sister so much.

“The only way to keep him from getting in the line of fire was to knock him out.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then Tony lunges over the table, his fist aiming for Brock’s face. Cameron holds him back.