Betraying Her (Savage Brothers Second Generation 3)

He grabs me again. I turn to look at him, but I don’t see my brother. I see a man who will never see me as an equal, as my own person. I will always be his little brother with the stutter that he needs to protect. I never asked for his protection. I thought we had each other’s back. I thought it was me and him against the world. I didn’t realize he just saw himself as the big brother who had to protect his weak, younger brother. If I had, I would have told him to go fuck himself.

“I’m trying to tell you that I’m sorry, brother,” Dom complains.

“And I’m t-t-trying to tell you that I don’t give a damn.”

“Listen, you can be pissed at me for keeping my relationship with Gabby a secret. I get that. I fucked up, but you don’t get to be pissed because some chick would rather suck my dick than yours.”

I pull away from him and shove him with enough force that he goes backwards a few steps. Again, I can see the shock on his face. That pisses me off as much as makes me happy.

“Wasn’t your dick she was grinding against when she was b-b-beneath me,” I laugh bitterly. From the way he jerks, I can tell I hit my mark. “And if you think that’s why I’m p-p-pissed, you don’t know me at all.”

“Fine, you want to be an asshole, motherfucker, you be one.”

“Thanks for your p-p-permission,” I snap.

“Why are you so mad at me?” Dom huffs.

“I’m n-not weak.”

“I know that,” he says, but I can see the doubt on his face, even as he tries to mask it.

“I don’t n-n-need you lying t-t-to me—for any reason.”

“I wasn’t lying,” he says, rubbing the side of his neck with his hand—a sure sign that he’s lying.

“Yeah, right,” I mutter.

“Okay, fine. I’ve tried to shelter you as much as I could, and fuck, maybe I was wrong in that.”

“You were. You hiding sh-shit from me is worse than w-w-what that bitch did, Dom.”

“She’s going to make a play.”

“Say what?” I ask. This time I’m the surprised motherfucker.

“Gabby. She’s pissed at me and has decided to make a play for you if I don’t fall in line.”

“It w-w-won’t work. I don’t w-w-want the bitch now. I don’t n-n-n-know what games you two played, but—”

“I don’t play games, T. Jesus, I know you’re pissed, but you know more than anyone that I don’t share. Up until now, I didn’t even use club pussy.”

“That ch-changing?”

“Least with them I know what I’m getting,” Dom says with a shrug.

I nod, pursing my lips, and really look at my brother for the first time in weeks. He’s stressed. My brother never shows when he’s upset, and yet, he is broadcasting it loud right now. He’s upset. Sure, part of it is because we’re fighting, but it’s more than that. I know because I see it on my face when I look in the mirror. Gabby did a number on both of us. Maybe my little sister is right. It doesn’t make me feel any better, but some of the anger I’m feeling eases.

I guess that’s something.

“W-What do you want from me?”

“Fuck, it’s not easy for me to admit, but I guess forgiveness. I should have tried harder to tell you about Gabby instead of leaving it to her. It was stupid, but I thought once you knew she wanted me, we’d talk, and it’d be okay. I tried to tell you before, but you didn’t believe me.” He shrugs. “I guess, I thought it would be better coming from her.”

I snort, unable to hold in my irritation.

“I get it now. You didn’t believe me because she was feeding you shit differently than she was giving to me. It doesn’t make the fact I didn’t make you listen and talk to you about the relationship I had with Gabby any better—”

“It doesn’t. It’s m-more than that. Y-you—”

“Treated you like a kid brother and not a grown ass man.”

I nod.

“Damn it, Thomas, can’t you give an inch?” he asks, clearly frustrated.

“What do you w-want from me?” It makes me an asshole, maybe, but I’m enjoying the fact my brother is so frustrated and unsure. I can’t remember seeing it before.

“Your help catching Gabby in bullshit and in a way that she can’t lie her way out of it. I don’t want her to try and use us against each other ever again. Would you be down for that?”

“When?” I find myself asking.

“Friday Night at Clay’s?” I frown. Clay’s Bar isn’t exactly a normal hang out—for Dom or me. We usually go to a bar the club owns. I want her trapped but embarrassing her in front of the club may cause more shit than it’s worth if her old man gets involved.