“No problem.” He shoved Nate so hard the younger man stumbled backward and slammed against the knotty-pine wall. A picture fell. The glass shattered on impact with the floor.
“Justin! Stop it, you’ll hurt him.” Marley went straight to Nate’s side, where he leaned in a stunned stupor against the wall.
Justin glared in disbelief. “He nearly shot me!”
She looked up from checking her brother, and her anger fueled the rage that had boiled inside him since the moment he’d seen the weapon.
“I’m fine, by the way,” he bit out. “That gunshot you heard didn’t actually hit me.”
Justin blew out a trembling breath, angry as hell over the entire situation, and still battling remnants of unfulfilled sexual desire throbbing in his veins. How crazy was that?
“I’m sorry,” Marley said stiffly, sounding anything but. He laughed without humor. “No, that would be me—the sorry son-of-a-bitch who wishes he’d never met this whole whacked out family.”
Hurt flooded her expression before her body stiffened and a cool mask slipped over her features. He wished for the words back.
“I think it’s time you left.”
The sharp edge to her usually husky voice told him exactly where he stood. Justin shook his head and strode toward the two of them. Nate straightened warily. Marley faced him with the confidence he’d come to expect from her. He held the weapon out, butt first, barrel slanted down, his gaze locked on hers in silent challenge. She didn’t break eye contact as she snatched it from his hand.
He turned toward Nate and took another step. Marley started forward but Justin held her back with an outstretched hand and a dark look. Wisely, she didn’t push it. He leaned close to Nate and looked him straight in the eye. “Don’t you ever threaten me again. And if I see you push your sister around again, or even hear of it, you’ll be sorry you were born.”
A flash of raw pain in Nate’s blue eyes surprised Justin. But then his bloody lip and jaw tightened and he gave Justin a mutinous glare. Justin wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of waiting for a response. He spun on his heel and slammed from the house.
It wasn’t until he reached the driveway that he realized he only wore his pants and socks. After a split second hesitation, he figured it’d be easier to buy new shoes, and the shirt, well, that wasn’t worth the effort.
****
Marley waited until she heard the Jeep spray gravel on its way out of the driveway before turning her simmering rage on her brother.
“What the hell, Nate?” She held the gun in front of his face.
He shoved her hand away with an annoyed scowl and strode past her to the bathroom. After returning the weapon to the closet, she started to follow him. About three steps along, though, she stopped and looked up at the ceiling where the gun had been pointing when it discharged.
When she located the spot where the bullet had lodged in a pine log, the moment she’d screamed in fear that Justin had been shot swept back over her, leaving her knees weak. She couldn’t believe her brother’s stupidity. Thank God Justin hadn’t been hurt.
Nate came back from the bathroom, a washcloth pressed to his swollen lip. He walked past her toward his bedroom and her emotions focused where they should. “Get your ass back here.”
Nate kept walking. She stalked after him, catching his arm just before the kitchen. She whipped him around and jabbed him in the chest. “You can’t walk in here after being gone all week, pull a gun and then act like nothing’s happened! I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
Nate looked down and sneered at her shirt—Justin’s shirt. “I can’t believe you’re screwing him.”
She drew in a breath as heat rushed to her face. She hadn’t, but had planned to.
“His name’s not Blackman—it’s Blake.” Nate spat the name as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth. “He owns the company you work for.”
“With his twin brother, Jordan, I know.”
Nate’s shoulders slumped. Unbidden, Marley felt sympathy creep in. He looked awful. Unable to help herself, she asked softly, “Where have you been, Nathan? I’ve been worried.”
Her question sparked a return of his belligerence. “What do you care, traitor?”
He shouldered past her and almost tripped on Justin’s brown shoes on his way to the couch. He kicked at them. His expression hardened even more when she picked up the shoes and set them neatly alongside the couch before sitting down to face him. This confrontation had been brewing for months.
“Do you really think I wanted to fire you?”
“You did it, didn’t you?”
She forced herself to remain calm. “I couldn’t let you slide anymore or it would’ve been my job on the line. You know we need my job so you can finish school.”