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“Or maybe it was because the first time we went out, I tried to order one, and he told the bartender not to make it because it was a whore’s drink,” I corrected, finally risking a glance to the side just as he tightened his hands on the beer bottle. He was wearing a dark green button-up shirt and jeans that had no stains on them, surprising since I noticed a little grease on his hands. I could tell by the way it glossed the skin and didn’t seem to soak in.
Brian was forever touching me with it on his hands and getting marks on our clothing.
Emmett’s, though, seemed tidy.
But I guess there was a dress code to get in here, even if you were only here to harass someone.
He took a sip from the beer and placed it back on the bar, letting out a sigh. “When he got home that day, and you were gone, he was devastated,” he continued like I hadn’t even said anything. Nope, this was a pity party for one, and he was going to make sure I heard it. “It was fucking cold, Cassidy. Not even a fucking note? An explanation?”
“Becausehe knew,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “I didn’t need to explain why I was leaving,he knewwhathe’d done. He just always thought I’d lay down and take it. That I didn’t have the balls to leave. So no, he didn’t need a note.” My heart began to race. This time, though, it wasn’t telling me to run because when I turned my stool to face him, I saw the army of men standing across the room.
Emmett hadn’t noticed them yet because they were standing by the exit, and his dark, punishing glare was focused solely on me.
These men in leather and denim were an intimidating sight. They were stoic and stern-faced, not making a move to step in but simply watching on. Drake stood directly in the middle of the group with fire in his eyes that told me he’d burn this shit down if Emmett tried anything.
What felt good, though, was that he wasn’t racing in or trying to take over. He was letting me handle it until I couldn’t, and he was there if I needed him. And that alone filled me with more confidence than if he’d stormed in here and became the brick wall between us.
It felt empowering, something I hadn’t felt for a long time.
Not when I walked away from Brian or even when I saw that he was dead. Neither of those things had given me the kind of belief in myself I felt in that moment. Knowing that Drake could see a strength in me I possibly couldn’t see, one letting him know if I could face Emmett on my own and not crumble—that alone helped me to breathe through the rush of emotions filling me. And it made me fall even more for this amazing fucking man.
“He treated you like a princess. Let you stay home while he worked his ass off to provide for you. Showered you with attention—”
“Attention?” I questioned, my voice still even and steady. But with the lump of tears forming in my throat, I could tell it wasn’t going to stay that way. “You mean attention like… how he never took his eyes off me when we were out so I couldn’t flirt with other men? You mean attention in the way he stopped me from having any friends outside of our relationship? Or how he refused to let me have a cell phone to keep in touch with my family?”
Emmett wanted me to feel shame, guilt, and the weight of it would break me down. But I wasn’t going to let it. I wasn’t going to let Brian haunt me from the grave through his brother whoknewwhat was happening at home but still looked the other way.
He wanted to tell these stories like they were normal.
Like it was normal for you to keep your girlfriend at home without any money or any way to contact people while you worked.
Like that was being treated like a fucking princess.
Because if he admitted they weren’t, then me fighting back and killing his brother was justified.
And I just knew he’d never agree to that.
Emmett and Brian were ride or die.
And while he’d seemed pretty calm during this conversation so far, it was that exact fact that scared the hell out of me.
“You never appreciated him,” Emmett snapped, his tone and temperament causing the line of men watching to all take a few steps forward. “And now, a real woman won’t get to treat him like he should’ve been treated becauseyoustolehislife!”
I slipped off the barstool, the men hanging back, but Drake making a beeline for me now.
“He stole two years of my life,” I spat, the tears choking me now, but I was fighting them, trying not to let him see me as weak.
“You’re going down for his death, Cassidy,” he threatened just as Drake stepped around me, placing himself at my back. Emmett glanced up at him then back to me. “Out here playing happy families while he rots.” He shook his head, his lip curling in disgust.
“I hope he does rot,” I said, thankfully without a crack in my voice. “I hope he rots in hell where he belongs. And thank God he’s not going to cause any more women pain.”
Emmett leaped off the barstool, his fist clenched, though Drake was faster, stepping in front of me and simply slapping it away. “You don’t want to find out what I’ll do to you if you touch her,” Drake warned, taking another step forward as if he was daring Emmett to make a move just so he could show him.
Drake was taller.
Stronger.
Smarter.
