Asher (Inked Brotherhood 1)

But Zane doesn’t hit me. Of course he doesn’t. He sits down on his haunches and grunts, a horrified look in his eyes. His tongue toys with the barbell. “Holy shit, fucker, your face is black and blue. Your dad do this to you?”

Who does he think? Santa Claus?

Hey, it has to be almost Christmas, right? That strikes me as funny for some reason. I start to laugh and have to hold my aching ribs with one hand, gasping for breath.

That seems to snap Zane into action. He tugs on my arm until I sit up and steadies me when I sway. “Goddammit, man, that bastard did a real number on you this time, didn’t he?”

I have no words, and I’m nauseous again. Fuck, I thought that evil was over. “Not the first time,” I say, my words slurred. “Caught me by surprise. I thought he stopped drinking.” I moan, grabbing my head. “I’m not going back.”

God, I have to stop talking. Can’t lay all this on Zane. Not with what he has to deal with. I can handle myself.

He stands up and pulls me to my feet. Black spots swim in my vision and my knees buckle. Good thing he grabs me under the armpits.

Yeah, I can handle myself just fine. Right.

“You bastard,” he hisses in my ear. “I told you to call me when you needed something, and this qualifies as needing something, got it?”

I’m too busy trying not to hurl to reply. My lack of answer doesn’t seem to faze him. Maybe he takes my silence as agreement. Maybe it is.

I’m past thinking and past caring.

“You’re coming with me.” He slings my arm over his shoulders and leads me to his car. I let him buckle me in. I’m exhausted just from crossing the street.

Boy is Erin gonna be pissed to see me. The thought sends me chuckling again, and ow, my ribs smart.

Zane keeps sending me strange looks as he drives. “You okay?”

It strikes me as funny he should ask at this point and I want to laugh harder. But then I realize he must be thinking I’ve gone off the deep end. I probably sound like a lunatic, laughing without a reason, and force myself to stop.

“You should have called me,” Zane is muttering under his breath. “You should have.... Damn, fucker, you could have died if you’d stayed out there tonight. What the hell were you thinking?”

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I have no answer to that.

But Zane’s on a roll. “If you’d died, I wouldn’t have known. You should have called me. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“No. I’m okay.”

“The hell you are. Let me get you checked out.”

“I said no.” We’ve had this discussion before and Zane knows my answer won’t change.

He tries a different tack. “Temperature’s going down to zero tonight. Don’t you know any better? Where’s your damn cell?”

My cell? “Must have left it at home.”

“We’ll drive by and get it.”

“No!” I make a grab for his arm. “I said I’m not going back there, Z-man.”

I can’t put Dad in jail. But I also can’t fight him anymore. God knows I’ve tried—hell, he goads me all the time, leaves me no choice—but he’s too strong, too unpredictable, friendly one day and in a murderous mood the next. Ever since Mom fell sick, and since her death, he’s been so angry.

Anger runs in the family.

Zane is giving me a wide-eyed look. “Okay, we’re not going to your dad’s. Dammit. Where will you go?” He winces as soon as the words leave his mouth. “For now you’re staying with me, that goes without saying, fucker.”

But later... Yeah, I know. I let go of his arm and lean back in the seat, gritting my teeth. I have to find another solution, but I’m too damn tired and the heater blows warmth on my icy face, making me sleepy.