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“What th—” he starts to growl.
I roll my head over just in time to catch the tiny body flying into the room, one that’s even smaller than me.
No!
It’s dark, but not so dark that I can’t immediately tell who it is.
My eyes widen as I take in the little fists bashing Rick’s back and anywhere else he can reach, as the older, much bigger man stumbles back off the bed. His jeans are tangled around his knees, and he nearly falls on his backside, catching himself at the last possible second.
“You little fuckin’ shit!”
There’s a flash of wide, dark eyes—too big for his tiny face—just as Rick lunges at him. Reaching for him, grubby hands flexed and aimed for my brother’s throat.
“Vale,” I breathe just as everything goes black.
Blink.
Glass shatters. A grunt of pain.
Blink.
Squelching sounds climb into my ear.
Blink.
My cheeks hurt. My throat hurts. My hand hurts.
It’s wet.
Blink.
Someone’s screaming. A woman.
But someone is laughing too. It doesn’t make sense. Nothing is making sense.
Why does my arm hurt? Why is everything so wet?
A tiny hand tugs on my pajama shirt, and I hear my name whispered. Aston. And suddenly, the world explodes into color. A mighty gasp bursts from my lungs, almost like a hiccup.
Red. It’s all red.
I’m surrounded by it. Even the foggy brown eyes vacantly staring up at me look red.
Heavy footsteps are thudding up the stairs. A woman is still crying, and someone is still laughing. The world is still rocking, too, just like it was earlier, but the pressure is gone. The pain is gone.
“What did you do?” the sobbing female voice screeches from the doorway, just as several dark figures fill up the room, pushing her out of the way. She screams, “What did you do?!”
“Jesus,” someone breathes.
More curses, more sobbing, more…giggling. It seems to be coming from everywhere all at once, all this noise. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I register lights flashing through the window—red and blue. Sirens fill up the night—wee-woo, wee-woo!
I try to swallow, but when I do, it doesn’t feel right, doesn’t taste right. It’s sharp and bitter, like I was licking old crusty pennies, and it doesn’t want to go down. It just keeps coming back up.
Oh, I realize. It’s because I’m the one laughing.
Hunching my shoulders, I curl backward, my knees coming up to my chest as I try to bite down on the sounds erupting from my mouth. Something warm and clammy brushes my bare butt, and I tense when I realize what it is, but only for a moment.
Something tells me I won’t have to worry about that anymore.
