The Break (Unbroken Raine Falling 2)

“Because you weren’t giving her what she needed,” Liam tossed back.

“Because you wanted to yank my chain.” Hammer shoved a finger in his face.

“For the record, I was trying to help someone I cared about, you bloody wanker.”

“Yeah, so you could see if I’d get jealous. And if not, well, why not just get in her pants? After that, do you think I enjoyed hearing her tell you that she loved you? That was a Hallmark moment I could have lived without.”

Liam rolled his eyes. “Oh, I’ve had a bloody party listening to her tell you she loves you for the last month! All that time, I’ve had to hear your insufferable whining about how I stole her from you.”

“Shit. I finally get the courage to tell her I love her, do I get sweet kisses and cuddles? No, she thinks I’m fucking lying.”

“What the fuck did you expect? You wait until she’s running out the goddamn door. Face it, Macen. You’re an idiot. Why didn’t you tell her in the bedroom this morning when you had her alone? That’s when she needed to hear it. And she might have let you fuck her, too.”

“You’re right. I was an idiot. Silly me for trying to honor our pact. So much for our strong, coordinated effort. Remember, she wasn’t supposed to be yours or mine? Or did you have a secret agenda in mind all along?”

“You’ve lost the plot, mate.” Liam shook his head in disgust.

“Jesus, you two.” Seth sighed as he opened the door. “Let’s get this out of the way before we go any further. You have five minutes outside to beat the fuck out of each other. Get it out of your system. When you come back, your heads up north better be ready to take charge.”

“With pleasure.” Liam stomped toward the door, shucking his jacket, tie, and shirt before tossing them onto the chair. “Are you coming, old man? Or are you afraid?”

With a glare Liam’s way, Hammer stood and tore off everything he wore above the waist, unceremoniously dumping them onto the same chair, then he barreled toward the door. He stopped as he passed by Seth. “You’re buying me a new pair of Louis Vuitton loafers, asshole.”

The other man just laughed as he slipped on his coat.

Stepping off the porch, Hammer sunk to his shins in the thick snow. He suddenly realized he should have told Seth that he’d need to replace his Armani trousers, too.

Liam hopped in the snow, his breath making clouds in the frigid air, fists pumping like a boxer’s. Hammer wanted to laugh, but the rancor glowing in O’Neill’s eyes told him this wouldn’t be a polite spar.

Before Hammer could get his footing in the slick, fine powder, Liam bounced in close and caught Macen’s jaw with a right hook. His head snapped back. A low growl tore from his throat.

“It’s on, asswipe,” Hammer bellowed.

Crouching low, he slammed a shoulder into Liam’s midsection. A grunt exploded from Liam’s throat, filling Hammer with satisfaction and sending the two men tumbling to the frigid snow.

Liam hissed as the frozen precipitation hit his bare back. Hammer snarled and straddled O’Neill’s chest, then hauled back a fist.

From the stoop, Seth stood wrapped in a woolen coat, rocking back on his heels and shaking his head.

Hammer ignored him and watched as Liam struggled to sit up. He launched his fist straight at Liam’s nose, making contact with a satisfying crunch. Blood sprayed in a perfect arc, landing on the Irishman’s chest and chin.

“You ready to give up yet?” Hammer baited.

“Concede to you, you fucking bastard?” the other man scoffed. “In your dreams.”

They panted heavily, and Liam struggled to push Macen off, then gave up with a curse. Instead, the man wiped at his nose, then reared back and punched him in the stomach. The air left Hammer’s lungs in a rush, and he felt faintly nauseous—and not for anything would he admit it.

“What are you doing, O’Neill? Trying to tickle me?” Hammer taunted before connecting another shot to Liam’s cheek.

“Get the hell off me. Christ, I can’t breathe with your weight on my gut,” Liam grunted as he twisted his body and heaved upright, unseating Hammer and tossing him onto his back. Rising to his knees, Liam hovered over him and plowed his fist into Macen’s nose. Pain exploded in his skull.

Hammer managed to grit his teeth and hold it together, even as blood ran into his mouth. “Stop hitting me with your purse.”

“You fight like a fucking girl. Planning to scratch me next?” Liam goaded before driving his fist into Hammer’s gut.

Macen groaned but managed to give Liam a mighty shove and send him tumbling.

Sprawled out in the snow side by side, the two men panted as they stared up into the twinkling night sky. The freezing temperature cooled his temper. Hammer realized he didn’t want to kill Liam, simply vent the years of pent-up fury once and for all. His nose hurt. His stomach felt sore. He spit out a mouthful of blood. His only consolation was that he didn’t think Liam had fared any better.