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She smiles reassuringly. “What is your heart telling you?”
I give her a weak smile. “I’m not sure. My heart is confused, too.”
“You have to choose, Tori. You can’t have them both. It’s not right.” She’s firm, but she isn’t judging me.
I lay my head in her lap and look up at her. “I will. I’m just not ready.”
Brady
I decide going home right now is not the best idea. There’s a small pub at the end of the boardwalk, and I intend to drown my heartache in alcohol. It’s what I do. When I step inside, I spot Tug sitting at the bar. As wrong as it is, I feel the urge to start something that could change our relationship forever. How could he make a move on Tori, knowing how I felt and knowing she was upset about me leaving? He’s always been the manipulative third child, but I never thought he’d do this.
“Aren’t you a little young to be in here?” I jab, slapping him roughly on the shoulder.
Tug spins on the stool and snarls at me. He turns away from me and stares across the bar. “Call a cop.”
I sit down on a stool next to him. “What are you so pissed about? You’re the one who moved in on my girl.”
He shakes his head and turns to look at me. “What the fuck is wrong with you? If she was your girl, you wouldn’t have just split on her like you did. You would have stayed here and worked it out. Worshipped her the way she deserves. Typical, Brady, fucking typical.”
I glare at him, contemplating what to say next. Tug doesn’t know anything about my reasons for leaving. He’s lived in his little bubble of perfection and the happy façade that is the Hunter family, and I’ve enabled him to do so. I don’t want the walls to crash around my siblings like they have for me, but that doesn’t mean I will listen to his self-righteous rant, either. “You don’t know shit, Tug.”
He takes a pull on his beer and then twists his head to look at me. “I know that I fucking love that girl, and I know you’re a fucking asshole who doesn’t deserve her.”
Every hair on the back of my neck stands. My fuming anger propels me forward. I tackle him around the waist, and we crash to the floor. The barstool falls with me and my knee slams into it, sending pain up my leg. Ignoring it, I pound my fist into the side of Tug’s face, just as he lands a left hook to my midsection that momentarily sucks the air from my lungs. While I’m stunned, Tug slides away from me and jumps to his feet. I stand, and before I can react, he launches into me with a roar. My back crashes against the wall.
Fuck! When did he get so goddamn strong? We wrestled all the time when we were younger, and I always whipped his scrawny ass. Tonight, through the chaos of screaming voices and unbridled rage, we are equally matched. His fist lands in the same spot on my gut as before and it buckles my knees, just before he slams his fist into my jaw, causing me to spin and fall.
Picturing him with his lips on Tori’s gives me the strength to pull myself up and charge after him. I shove him to the ground and climb on top of him, repeatedly landing my fist on the side of his face. He moves and my next punch misses wildly, slamming into the floor. My knuckles bleed and I shake my hand, attempting to alleviate the sting. He manages to roll me off him and stand. As I start to get up, his foot makes contact with my ribs, and I double over in pain. Even through the fury in my mind, that fucking hurt.
Just as I’m about to charge him once more, stro
ng hands wrap around my arms and hold me in place. As I try to free myself from the person’s grip, I get a glimpse the giant holding Tug back. He’s a monster. If the guy holding me is even half his size, escape won’t be possible.
Glaring at me with hatred, Tug spits, “Did you even consider letting her go? Letting me have something for once? I fucking hate you, Brady!” The bouncer pulls him away and the words are muffled, but they’re clear as can be in my mind, and hurt worse than any of the punches he delivered tonight.
He has no idea how many times I considered letting her go, but I can’t. She has to be the one to let go. He’s also clueless as to how much I’ve let him have by not revealing the truth about me and the family who raised me.
Chapter 32
Tori
Squinting, I open my eyes, unsure of where I am for a minute. I remember I’m in Liv’s room and I smile. I’m still on her bed, lying with my head in her lap. She’s running her fingers through my hair just as she had been when I dozed off. Her phone vibrates, and I realize that must be what woke me up. I sit up, and smile nervously at her.
“Are you going to answer that?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t recognize the number. They can leave a voicemail.”
The buzzing stops and then resumes a second later. “They’re persistent.”
Liv picks up her phone, swipes the screen, and holds it to her ear. “Hello.” All of the color drains from her face, and she sits upright in her bed. “What? Okay. Yes, I understand. I’ll be right there.”
She springs out of bed and rushes to her closet. “Tori, this situation just got a whole lot worse.” She pulls a pair of jeans from the hanger and starts putting them on.
Anxiety fills me, and the tiny hairs on my neck stand up. “What? What is it? What happened?”
“My brothers were in a bar fight. They’ve been arrested.”
“What?” I ask again, confused. The two ended up in a bar together. That must be a good thing, right? They were together. Maybe they talked and worked things out. “Did someone start something with them? Were they hurt?”
