First - Page 69

A tiny part of me still runs in circles and screaming her head off. But the sight of Dally taking my brother’s ire for no reason makes me snap. I fling open the fridge and grab the pitcher of iced tea sitting in the door. I rip off the lid and run into the living room, flinging the contents at them and missing completely. Unfortunately, the pitcher slips from my hands and clocks Jake in the face.

He pauses long enough to give me an incredulous look before Dally grabs the collar of his t-shirt and swings him off to the side. Jake goes flying, Dally is free, and they’re both trying to get to their feet.

Their bodies fly past me, smashing into the far counter.

‘Dally!’ I scream.

Definitely not the best idea since he looks at me and takes Jake’s next punch straight to the ribs. He caves in on himself and Jake raises his fist to deliver a shot to the temple.

I’m yelling ‘Don’t!’ over the sounds of the fight and running into the kitchen, intent on getting between them.

Which is when I slam my other hip into the same corner of the counter.

Dally and Jake both freeze, rage transforming to horror as I suck in a breath and release a cry of pain that would make a banshee proud. Jake’s rushing toward me, Dally a step behind since Jake cut him off.

Jake holds out his hands at me, pleading. ‘Don’t cry, Cat—’

I howl again and stomp my foot. Jake’s creeping closer slowly, afraid of my reaction. Dally is all idiotic bravery. He slips past Jake and crouches near me, hands cupping my face, wiping away my tears. Even now, after I’ve gotten him beaten to a pulp over my idiocy, he still looks at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world.

‘You have the shittiest luck, brown eyes,’ he says with the ghost of a grin.

That only makes me bawl harder before I fling myself into his arms. He holds me up until I’m able to support my own weight, then carefully disentangles himself from me.

By now my tears have dried out and I am nothing more than a few miserable sniffles. Jake and Dally have strategically taken up opposite sides of the kitchen. They eye each other around me, but the worst seems to be over. That’s good since they both look like hell warmed over before it’s eaten by a cat and puked back out.

Jake wipes his bleeding nose with a forearm and points a shaky finger at Dally. ‘Answer my fucking question.’

‘Nothing happened!’ I wail. ‘He hasn’t done anything, Jake!’

‘Jeff wasn’t lying,’ Dally says quietly, wiping blood from his split lip. ‘I was at the store with her.’

Jake starts to move, but I fling up my hands and fix him with my best impression of Mom’s don’t-you-dare look. It actually works.

‘No more fighting,’ I order, pointing at Jake. I turn on Dally and give him a glare. ‘And you, no instigating.’

They warily obey.

‘Dally was at the store with me,’ I tell Jake, praying my voice doesn’t crack or give another sign of weakness. ‘But it wasn’t like that. I was shopping for myself, not for him.’

‘What were you buying then?’ Jake demands.

My mind blanks out. Jake’s glare moves back to Dally and a rumble starts to rise again from his chest. I hear Dally moving behind me and see him out of the corner of my eye. He’s moving to my side, keeping me out of line of my brother’s assault.

‘Leave her out of this, Jake,’ Dally urges.

My brother’s losing it again. ‘You motherfu—’

‘Honey dust!’ I shout. ‘I wanted to get honey dust.’

Dally closes his eyes with a pained expression. Jake froths and his fists come up.

‘Not for that! Not for that!’ I’m hysterical. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to stop this from going back to fists and blood and anger. Inspiration strikes. ‘It’s for my underboob sweat!’

Jake’s rumble cuts off in a hiccup of shock. Next to me, Dally snorts.

Jake stares at me in complete and utter shock. ‘Your what?’

I cross my arms over my miniscule chest and glare at him. ‘I am not repeating myself. I know you heard me. And that’s why.’

Tags: M.A. Grant Erotic
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