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For a few seconds, he just remains motionless like that, glaring at Jace as if considering whether they can still win even though Jace can now put a bullet in his head before he even takes the first step.
Then he lets out something between a breath and a snarl, and clicks his tongue.
“Let’s go,” he snaps at the rest of his useless family.
I let out a mocking chuckle.
Fury flickers in his eyes as he drags his gaze to me while his younger family members back away across the grass.
“Watch your back, Hunter,” he growls at me.
I just let a vicious smile curl my lips. “Says the dog running away with his tail between his legs.”
Mikhail snarls something in Russian and then spits on the ground before my feet.
With that cold smile still on my lips, I slide out a throwing knife and raise my arm, aiming it towards Anton.
Panic crackles across Mikhail’s face, and he quickly leaps to the side so that he is blocking my throw with his own body. I keep the knife ready to throw and raise my eyebrows in silent challenge.
He grinds his teeth again, but then starts backing away as well.
I remain where I am, watching them while Jace strolls up to me. He stops next to me, still holding the gun.
For a little while, we just stand there side by side, watching the Petrovs flee. Once the annoying Russians have at last disappeared, I sheath my knives and give Jace a sideways glance while arching an eyebrow.
“Where the hell did you get the gun?” I ask.
He shrugs and slips it into the back of his pants before starting towards the back door. “It’s Rico’s. He left it behind when he moved out. In case of emergencies.”
Tearing my gaze from the now empty lawn, I quickly retrieve the knives I threw earlier before I follow my crazy little brother back into the house. “Then why didn’t you use it from the beginning?”
Jace is silent for a while before replying, “I needed the fight.”
I glance at him as I walk across the threshold and close the door behind us. I’m not sure where his bat is, but there’s some blood on his knuckles so I’m assuming that he discarded it in favor of his fists. My gaze drifts up to his face, taking in the massive bruise forming on his jaw.
A hint of guilt swirls in Jace’s eyes as he flicks a quick look at me. “You alright?”
I suddenly realize that I never responded when he told me he drew out this confrontation because he needed the fight, which probably made Jace think that I’m pissed about it. I’m not. If he needed the fight, then that’s all the justification I need.
“Yeah,” I reply, and then jerk my chin towards his jaw. “Put some ice on that.”
Both relief and embarrassment blow across his face, and he reaches up to draw a hand over the bruise. “It’s fine. It’s not that bad and—”
Burying my fists in his shirt, I slam him up against the wall.
He blinks at me in shock but does nothing to push me back. Which means that he still feels guilty that he dragged me into a fight when he could’ve ended it before it even started. Fucking hell.
Keeping my voice hard, I growl, “Unless you want me to give you a matching bruise on the other side of your jaw, put some fucking ice on it. Am I making myself clear?”
“Alright,” he replies, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Jeez. Calm down.”
But there is a smile on his face now, and the light is back in his eyes. He understands what it is that I’m saying without actually saying it.
Releasing my grip on his shirt, I let out a chuckle and take a step back. Jace makes a show of dramatically brushing his hands down his shirt to straighten out the wrinkles while giving me a look of mock affront.
I raise my arm and stab a hand towards the kitchen. “Ice. Now.”
Then I stalk away and walk up to my room to see if I can catch the Petrovs moping about their loss on the bug I planted in their kitchen.
