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And I will.
I will make her feel everything, and I won’t stop until she is reduced to a broken sobbing mess. Then I will dump her back on her brothers’ doorstep. And then they will know that I am the one who ruined her.
I start in surprise as something hard taps my shoulder. Spinning around, I reach for my knives only to realize that I have already thrown them all. But it’s not Mikhail Petrov, or any of his annoying relatives, that I come face to face with.
Standing two steps away, still pointing a bat at my shoulder, is Jace.
“Distracted much?” he says, raising his eyebrows at me.
I draw my eyebrows down and glare at him. “No.”
“Uh-huh.” He snorts and gives me a knowing look while using his damn bat to motion between us and the back door he walked out of without me realizing it. “Then how come I could just sneak up on you like this?”
He’s right, of course. I was distracted. By thoughts of that little Russian. And I didn’t hear Jace open the door and I didn’t hear him walk across the grass and all the way up to me. I didn’t even feel his presence right behind my back until he tapped me on the shoulder with his damn bat.
But there is no way in hell I’ll ever admit that to him. If I do, his already massive ego will grow so large that it won’t fit through the door.
“Because I let you,” I reply, and flash him a smirk. “Because you’re not a threat.”
A wicked grin spreads across his own mouth as he points his bat straight at my chest. “Says the unarmed man to the guy with the bat.”
“I’ve already told you. I don’t need a weapon to beat you, little brother.”
“Hard to beat me when you can’t even get within four feet of me.”
Grinning at me, he moves until the top of his bat almost brushes against my chest.
I level a dark look at him. “Touch me with that bat. I fucking dare you.”
The grin stays on his face, and I can almost see the flames of chaos burn in his eyes. He gets restless easily. These last couple of years more than ever. And if he doesn’t have an outlet for it, he will start spiraling. So I sometimes deliberately provoke fights with him just so that he can get it out of his system.
Standing there on the grass, I wait to see if he will go for it.
He doesn’t.
Instead, he rolls his eyes and spins the bat around so that it’s resting against his shoulder instead. “God, you’re so dramatic.”
I blow out a calculated sigh as if I’m annoyed, and then shake my head as I walk away to retrieve my knives.
“Here I was, trying to be nice,” Jace says from where he’s still waiting for me on the grass. “And you respond by threatening me. Someone really needs to teach you some manners, brother.”
“Keep talking and I’ll be the one teaching you some manners.”
He snorts. “Come try it. Anyway, I just came out here to tell you that I’m gonna go up and throw a bat at Rico.”
My brows furrow in genuine confusion. Yanking out my final knife, I slide it back in its sheath before turning around to face Jace again. “And why, exactly, are you going to throw a bat at Rico?”
“Because he’s moping.”
Protectiveness surges up inside me, and my voice turns serious as I reply, “Rico is moping? Why?”
“I think he’s hit a wall with Isabella.”
Nodding, I start back towards him. “I’ll come with you.”
“I have another bat in the kitchen,” Jace says as we walk back to the door. “In case you want to throw one at him too.”
“I’m fine.”
