Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
“I would,” Whitt said, raising his hand.
“Shut it,” I snarled. “And if you care about me being with Chase, then we can talk about it.”
They all started to speak at once, but I held my hands up.
“But not now. Not when you’re this riled up. Not when you’re fucking violent!”
I shook my head. I had known it was going to be a disaster when I told my family what was going on. No one was going to be happy that I wasn’t going to Harvard Law. They were going to try to talk me out of it. I’d been their hopes and dreams in that regard for far too long. And I’d known that after that talk, introducing Chase wasn’t going to be fun.
I hadn’t thought that Jordan would punch him.
He’d had his anger issues so closely under lock that I didn’t even think he had that in him anymore. He’d tried so hard not to be like Owen. They all had. The fact that they didn’t even see the trap they’d walked right into was sad. Owen had paved the way, and they’d fallen right for it. He’d barely had to spring the thing to get them all to do his dirty work for them.
I hoped they all felt fucking terrible when they realized it.
“So, get out.” I pointed at the door.
“Harley,” Whitt said, trying to reason with me with sympathy on his face.
“No.”
“Come on,” West said. “We’ll be civil.”
“You don’t know what the word means.”
“We should talk about this,” Julian argued.
“No!” I snapped. “You all lost the opportunity to discuss this when you punched him in the face.”
“You’re just going to stand there and let her speak for you, Sinclair?” Jordan asked.
“She said everything that needs to be said,” Chase said, tipping his head at my brother, his enemy.
I snapped my fingers at Jordan twice to get his eyes on me. “She is right in front of you. I speak for myself. Fuck off with the misogyny in my house.” I strode across the living room and yanked the door open. “Now, get out.”
My brothers looked torn between listening to me and continuing to have this out with Chase. I smacked my hand against the door.
“We will talk when you can be civil. That is not right now. So, go.”
They grumbled, but to their credit, they slumped out the front door.
Jordan looked back at me once as he crossed back outside. “He’s going to hurt you.”
My face shuttered. “You don’t know anything.”
“I do. I know him.”
“Maybe you knew him,” I said. “But all I hear is that none of you trust me enough to make my own judgment call.”
“None of us want to see you get hurt.”
They were too late. Three years too late. Now, I was finally happy, and they were the ones ruining it.
“You can’t save me from everything.”
“We can try.”
I shook my head at him and then shut the door in his face. I closed my eyes as I fought back the roiling emotions ripping through me. That had been an unmitigated disaster. I could not possibly think of a worse way for anyone to find out about us.
I didn’t know where we went from here, but I knew that we couldn’t keep going the way we had been. Everything had changed from this moment on.
Everything.
2
CHASE
“Well, that could have gone better.”
Harley released a harsh laugh. “That’s a word for it.”
I cupped my still-bleeding nose. It fucking hurt. Jesus Christ, Jordan Wright had a mean right hook—I’d give him that. He certainly didn’t miss.
Not that I’d anticipated him throwing that punch today. Sure, I was sleeping with his little sister. I’d known he would be pissed. That was why I’d hidden in her bedroom even though I fucking hated it. I hadn’t wanted to hide like we’d hidden the last three years, and I’d done it when I saw the sheer panic cross her face at the sight of her brothers at the door.
I’d gotten a bloody nose out of the whole mess.
Maybe not undeserved, but still…fuck him.
“Are you okay?” I asked as I headed across the living room to Harley.
Her eyes slid to mine, and then she frowned. “Am I okay? Jesus, Chase, you’re still bleeding.”
She rushed into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a towel, which she held up to my face. My hands had blood on them. It had run like rivulets down my forearms. It was red and tacky, running down my lip and on my chin. It was probably on my shirt.
I liked this shirt. Fuck.
I winced when the towel touched my nose. “Well, fuck. Don’t think I’m going to escape another Wright black eye.”
“My fucking brothers,” she growled.
“I’d say it was just Jordan, but West did swing on me. I just saw that one coming.”
She huffed. “I can’t believe them.”