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They adjusted, but Cohen went down to the floor, his legs wrapped around Clint’s waist.
Then another thud.
Trenton was unconscious and Scout was stepping back from him, keeping a wary eye on me and Clint.
“You—” Clint let loose a savage roar, reaching down, punching Cohen so his legs let loose. It worked. Cohen fell to the ground, and Clint started for Scout, who jumped up on the counter and used his feet to block him.
Clint threw a right punch. Scout blocked it with his feet.
His left.
Scout caught it with his left foot, using his right to push back on Clint’s hip. “Stop, Clint. I put him to sleep. That’s all I did. A normal body lock takedown. He would’ve kept pushing it, and you know that.” Clint knocked one of Scout’s feet aside, punching at his thigh, and he made contact.
Scout winced, but then he was off the counter, and he had a hold on Clint in the next instant.
Déjà vu from a moment again. Different cousin, same hold.
I couldn’t handle it. “Stop! Stop it!” In the background, I was aware of a door being ripped open, then slammed shut, and more feet running our way.
“What the—” Alex.
Alex was coming.
My chest broke free from the chunk of ice that’d frozen it in place.
“MOVE!”
Someone moved.
“What is going on?” Another beat and, “Let go of my brother!”
Cohen jumped up and got in front of Alex, who was yanking his shirt up and over his head. “It didn’t need to get to this.”
Alex shoved him away, going to my side, but stopped abruptly. “Trenton?”
Scout and Clint were still in a standing wrestling battle. Scout was trying to contain Clint, and Clint was trying to get free so he could hurt him. It was consisting of a lot of fast arm movements, too fast for me to see all of it. They were moving in a blur, and at one point, Scout had his legs wrapped around Clint again, but Alex started for him.
“Shit!” Scout ripped himself away, hitting Clint back with one sudden kick to his chest as he flipped his body over the kitchen island, landing on the other side. “Stop! Fuck.”
“You put hands on my brother?” Alex was saying, advancing from the left.
Clint was going to the right. “He had hands on Ramsay.”
Alex froze. “What?”
It was the wrong thing to say.
No one else was wading in.
Cohen was standing on the side. “Scout?”
He was waiting for him to tell him what to do, but Scout was focused on two of my cousins again. And Trenton? I looked and found that he was waking up, blinking rapidly.
This was going to get out of hand, already was out of hand.
“STOP!” I had to end this.
My head was swimming. The violence. The anger. The thirst for blood.
The fear.
Chilled sweat was trickling down my spine.
None of this was right. None of this was good.
I choked out, “Stop it.”
Clint started for me. “Ramsay.”
I shot up a hand. “Stop. Just stop. It’s all a misunderstanding.” They were listening now. “I was in the wrong. I was going to say something that I shouldn’t have. Scout came in and jumped to the wrong conclusion. Or maybe the right one, I don’t know, but he and I were exchanging words. That was it. That was all. I swear. I tried to put hands on him. I was wrong. Me! This is all my fault. Trenton came in, saw the wrong thing and—”
“I didn’t care.” Trenton was now standing, rubbing at his neck, wincing. He was rational again. His eyes were clear, though clouded in pain. “I knew I shouldn’t swing on him, but I did. I wanted to.” He raised his chin toward Scout. “Sorry, man. Misplaced anger. It’s that real fuck I want to—” He stopped himself right as Clint hissed at him, and both swung their gazes to me.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
How did I fix this? It felt like it was beyond repair.
They’d swung on each other.
Cohen cleared his throat. “We can handle this—but not here and not with an audience.”
“Not tonight.” Alex was looking around too.
Clint was nodding. “Ramsay, we’ll take you home.”
I glanced in Scout’s direction, words I’d like to say were on the tip of my tongue, but seeing the frostiness in his gaze, they died in my throat.
I was hoping to believe Cohen, but not with Scout and me.
What we had was well and truly done.
53
SCOUT
I heard the beep just after I dropped Cohen off, and knowing nothing good was sent this late at night, I checked my phone.
Ramsay: I know it’s not much right now, but I’m sorry for everything that happened tonight.
I frowned.
Me: It’s not your fault.
Ramsay: Feels like it.
Me: It was a mix of misunderstandings and pissed off guys who care about you and not being able to do what we’re supposed to do. The real guy they want to hurt wasn’t here. I was. Not on you.
