Page 105 of Violence


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Voice loud, I challenge them to do something else besides stare at me and whisper behind their hands.

“What about the rest of you fucks? Is there anybody else here who wants to say a fucking word about my brother or me or Emily? Because if so, step right the hell up and say it to my face. I just happen to be in the perfect mood tonight to teach all of your asses why it’s a bad idea.”

Many of them back up farther, a few holding up their phones to record the shitshow. They drop them real quick when my gaze slides their direction.

Dylan makes his way through the crowd to see what’s going on, his eyes locking with mine as his cheeks heat with anger.

He can fuck off, too, if this is the shit he’s letting these punks do to his sister in her own fucking house.

“No? Nobody? Well, let me put it this way then, the next time I hear about any of you talking shit about Emily, Damon or me, you can bet your ass I’ll show up to have a conversation with you about it. Have I made myself clear or do you fucks need another example of what I’m willing to do?”

They all back away more, a few shaking their heads in silent answer.

Apparently, I was yelling a little too loud because all their eyes shoot past me in the next second.

I glance behind me to see what they’re looking at and curse beneath my breath.

Emily is staring out at me from her room, the door only partially open.

Dropping her gaze down to the kid still bleeding and crawling on the floor, anger floods that turquoise stare before her eyes shoot up to me again.

It feels like we’re right back in high school where another kid was bleeding, the same night the cops were on their way to drag both Damon and me off to jail.

Shaking her head, Emily says nothing, but I can feel the anger rolling off her before she slams her door shut.

“Fuck...”

Stabbing a hand through my hair, I march down the hall, not surprised when kids practically dive left and right to stay out of my way. The only one who doesn’t move is Dylan.

He stands solidly in the middle of my path, his eyes narrowed on me with hatred and his hands balling into fists. I step up to him so close that our noses are almost touching.

“Did you want to say something?”

His jaw tics, his nostrils flaring, but he doesn’t say the first word.

Jabbing a finger at his face, I warn him, too.

“Stick up for your sister, you little prick. Stop letting people disrespect her in her own house. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Another tic of his jaw, but still not a single word. He eyes me like he wants to throw a punch, but those arms don’t move. His shoulders flex in an indication that he’s thinking about it.

Dylan is welcome to bring it on.

Considering I’ve already upset Emily by hurting the other kid, I realize it’s better to walk away from this than teach her brother a lesson in respect as well.

Smirking at his tough boy act, I knock him out of the way and head through the foyer to the front door, the door slamming hard enough to shake the wall when I let myself out.

Fuck all those assholes for bringing up old shit. Why do they even care about that video? It just makes me hate this place even more than I already did. Makes me hate our families and the bullshit social circles.

The Jeep’s tires squeal over the driveway when I drive away, my hand gripping the wheel as my foot hits the gas a little too heavy.

But I can’t help it. I’m too pissed. Not because of the video or those kids’ stupid comments, but because Emily had to see what I did.

I almost laugh to think that this entire trip was a wasted effort.

The rules I’d wanted were blown to shit, as well as any good feelings Emily might have had left for me.

Emily

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