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Reaching out, I rip the door open and step inside.
All eyes turn on me. I feel their attention burning into my skin as I stare at the happy couple on the beanbag. The music lessens until the only thing I can hear is the blood rushing past my ears.
My fists clench. My need to reach out and pull her from his body is all-consuming. But I can’t. I have no more claim over her than Conner does.
“What’s wrong, bro? Cat got your tongue?” Conner teases, making my teeth grind. He’s knows what he’s fucking doing, and fuck if I’m not playing right into his hands.
Ripping my eyes from his, I turn to Ace. “You got anything to drink?”
“Yeah, in the kitchen.” I nod at him and spin on my heels, marching that way to find what I need to help numb the feelings exploding within me faster than I can stamp them down.
I find a bottle of vodka, and with my back to them all, I twist the top and drink down damn near half without so much as coming up for air.
A shadow falls over me, and for a beat, I think it might be her. That is, until I look up and find my older brother staring daggers into me with his shoulders pulled tight like he’s ready to fight.
“Where have you been?”
I stare into his cold blue eyes and push from the counter, puffing out my own chest, ready to take him should he decide to beat the information out of me.
“Out.”
His lips thin in frustration.
“Where?”
“None of your business.”
“Bullshit. You were in the Heights, weren’t you?”
“So what if I was?”
I might have my back to the others, but I can feel their stares burning into me, waiting to see what’s going to happen.
He takes a menacing step toward me, but I refuse to back down. Most people are scared of Ace, but I’m not one of them.
“Please, please tell me you’re not doing what I think you are,” he all but begs.
A little guilt trickles through me, but I push it away. I refuse to feel guilty when what
I’m doing is saving his ass and allowing him to have time with his girl. We both know that he’d be dead by now if I hadn’t made that deal with Donny.
I knew what I was doing that night, and now I need to accept the consequences. I might not care about all that much in life, but I sure as fuck will put my brothers’ lives ahead of my own.
Ace closes the space between us, tension crackling as he waits for me to admit what he clearly already knows.
“I’m waiting.”
“Fuck you, Ace. You’re not my fucking father.”
His jaw pops, the muscles in his neck straining.
“Stand down, Ace,” Conner instructs, walking over to join us in the hope of diffusing the situation.
“Not until he tells me the truth,” he growls.
“There’s nothing to tell.” I tip the bottle to my lips, but it never makes it because Ace’s hand connects with the glass and sends it scattering across the pool house, vodka flying from the neck.
One of the girls screams, although I’m not sure which one, and I don’t get a chance to look because Ace’s fists curl in my shirt, pulling me to him so we’re nose to nose.
