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“Don’t. You can’t. He—”
“Don’t try to sugarcoat what that motherfucker did to you.”
Cutter only used that language around her when he was beyond furious. He underscored that fact by curling up his fist, rolling a growl up from his chest, and punching her driver’s-side window.
Brea jumped and started—then blinked in horror when he reared back to do it again, as if he wasn’t satisfied that the glass hadn’t shattered the first time.
“Stop.” She grabbed his elbow and hauled back with all her might.
He whipped a furious stare on her, then snarled out another curse as he shook out his hand. “You shouldn’t have gone to Walker on my behalf. You promised me you’d stay away.”
“You needed me, and I—”
“He’s dangerous. I hope you fucking get that now.”
“Cutter, please. Listen…”
“No. I know you. I know you sacrificed yourself for me. And I know what you’re doing right now. Don’t you dare try to make me feel less guilty.”
“I’m not. I’m telling you that—”
“It wasn’t too bad?” he scoffed. “A conversation with the asshole is torture. I can’t imagine how you endured a whole night with him fucking on top of you.” He clenched his hands into fists again with a guttural grunt. “I would have gotten myself out of the situation. And if I couldn’t have, it wasn’t worth whatever he put you through. I don’t even want to think about how much he bent you to his will—and hurt you—without wanting to kill him.”
The longer she let Cutter linger on this subject, the angrier he would become. And he wasn’t calm enough yet to hear that Pierce hadn’t forced her to do anything. He might not be for a while.
“It’s over. Right now, I’m worried about you. You should never have left against doctor’s orders. You have a nasty concussion. Don’t break your hand, too. You need rest. I’m so thankful you’re alive. Please don’t worry me more.”
“I’m fine. I’m taking you to the hospital to get a rape kit.”
She blanched. “No.”
“You’re going to let him get away with defiling you?” His incredulous stare curdled her stomach.
“He’s not getting away with anything. I’m focused on you right now. I’m worried about you. Nothing else matters.”
Cutter raked a hand through his hair, angry knuckles reddening. “You can’t expect me to let this go, Bre-bee. I understand why you might not want to tell everyone in Sunset or even your father. I don’t agree because this isn’t your shame. But I understand.”
“You don’t understand at all. Let it go.”
“Are you fucking crazy?”
“Keep it down, bro,” Cage hissed as he made his way down the driveway to join them on the sidewalk. “You’re going to wake up the whole neighborhood if you don’t.”
Cutter whirled on his brother. “I’m supposed to be calm when Walker fucking raped her?”
“Don’t say that. You don’t understand,” Brea insisted.
“Oh, I understand perfectly.” Her best friend looked murderous.
She turned to Cage with an imploring gaze.
The older Bryant brother nodded. “Bro, you’re not supposed to be out of bed. And you’re definitely not supposed to be driving.” He plucked the truck keys from Cutter’s grip. “Today isn’t the day to fight this battle.”
Cutter looked gutted. “You’re taking her side?”
“I’m taking yours,” Cage insisted. “That pain pill should be kicking in about now… The one that warns against operating heavy machinery or an automobile.”
Cutter clutched his head. “We can’t let Walker get away with this. He needs to die.”
Brea groped for her patience. “He did nothing wrong.”
But one look at Cutter’s face told her that he’d never believe her. He saw her as a little girl. He would never believe she had chosen to have sex with a man who wasn’t her husband, especially someone he held such a low opinion of. If burying her head in the sand was sometimes her downfall, Cutter’s was being stubbornly blind. He didn’t want the truth, so it didn’t exist.
“He did everything wrong,” Cutter growled. “And you let him take whatever he wanted from you to save my miserable ass. I will never forgive myself.”
Before she could say another word, he pivoted toward his mother’s house and marched for the front door, leaving her alone with Cage. His expression was more measured, equal parts righteous anger and curiosity. “Want to talk about it?”
Brea shook her head. She loved Cage like family, but she’d never been as close to him as she was to Cutter. The last thing she wanted to do was share her personal life with more people or bring anyone else into this strife. “I don’t, except to say that your brother is wrong.”
“Walker didn’t rape you?”
“No. Not at all.”
“That fits. You might be pious and soft-spoken, but if he’d hurt you, then you would have said so.”
“Thank you for being rational.”
“Cutter will be, too. Eventually. I hope.” He winced. “Right now, he’s just angry.”
