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Fuck. There was no way I could ignore the threat those words implied or the fact that they came from my own flesh and blood brother. So, I said nothing; instead, I just ended the call. Angry and upset, I hated that once again Terry would always choose his duty to the Ashby family above all else.
I couldn’t blame him, not really. Sadie and her children had taken us in and treated us as family, but this was one little fucking thing that he could have done for me. And he refused.
Flat out fucking refused.
Well, goddammit, I wasn’t going to take it. I grabbed my phone and keys to my Tesla and raced out of my front door. I headed to Terry’s house before I could talk myself out my hot-headed move.
The light was still on in the upstairs bedroom window when I pulled up in front of Terry’s house a few minutes later. I’d yet to figure out what I wanted to say to him, my mind was full of epithets and rage as I raced up the walk and pounded on the front door.
“Damn it, Terry, open up,” I yelled at the top of my lungs.
By the time he flung the door open in his briefs and a black cashmere robe adorned with the Ashby crest, his eyes burned with righteous anger. “What the fuck, Emmet?” he said, his voice a drowsy mix of confusion and irritation. “It’s the middle of the night.”
I pushed my nose into his face and snarled, “I’m interested in the Ashby’s business all right, Terry, especially when it involves getting innocent women killed. That a problem for you?”
Terry put his hand in my face to stop me and that set off a switch in my brain. It was suddenly all too much. The ambush at the HOA, the mess with Ravager, the video of Fiona’s murder, coupled with my fear for Vanessa. My PTSD kicked in and I wasn’t taking shit anymore. From anyone.
I hauled back and hit Terry with an uppercut to the jaw that sent him reeling back through his doorway. He staggered briefly then recovered and came at me with blows to my nose and my solar plexus. They landed like puffballs. Guy was so out of shape it wasn’t even funny.
I bulldozed my way onto him and we both landed on the carpeting in the entryway with me on top of Terry, my nose bleeding onto his face.
He fought at me and kicked to get out from under me, but I had him pinned and I pummeled him with blows to his face and his chest. If he landed a fist on me, I didn’t even notice. I went at him with a white hot fury.
“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” Kat shouted, running down the stairs toward us.
She pulled on me, yanking my hair back, grabbing me by the neck until I came to my senses and let go of the death grip I had on my brother’s neck. Kat came between us and and sat on Terry’s head until he stopped swinging wildly, carving circles in the air without doing any damage to me.
Finally, his arms fell onto the carpet and Terry said, “Enough.”
I didn’t know if he was telling me to stop or admitting defeat.
Kat pushed me off Terry and I fell to my knees, more in shock at the fury my brother had unleashed in me than any pain he had inflicted.
Kat helped Terry to his feet, and he looked down at me. “Get out,” he said.
“I have something to say to you, Terry,” I said, struggling up to one knee.
Kat was helping him back up the stairs. “I said, get out.”
Kat lifted Terry’s arm over her shoulder and steadied him around his waist. I saw the damage I had done to him as he limped away from me. She turned to me. “No more tonight, Emmett. Go.”
Her voice was cold, a tone I’d never heard before, and I knew it was over.
I staggered to my car and slumped behind the wheel, my head buzzing from Terry’s blows. I looked at the clock on the dashboard.
It was well past midnight and too damn late to do anything about keeping an eye on Vanessa now. What was I thinking? She was probably preparing to cash out the players. She would make it home safely and do it all again tomorrow.
There was nothing more I could do, but brood, which my head shrink said wasn’t healthy, as if I could fucking help it. Or was there? I headed for my Tesla just before two. As I pulled away from Terry’s place, my phone dinged with a message.
From Terry, not Vanessa.
Meeting 9am. Ashby Manor. Be there.
If I was expected to show up, the news was big.
If Terry was still speaking to me, the news was fucking big.
