“Kyle!”
I must have fallen asleep on the sofa, because it was light out, and Charlotte was shaking me. I blinked blearily and looked around.
“What?” I yawned.
“Kyle, wake up.” There was something in her voice. Something awful. “Wendy’s here.” My eyes flew open, and I sat up. “Kyle.” Charlotte had her hands on my shoulders, and her voice was low. “Kyle, she’s not in good shape. I need you to stay calm.”
I was shaking, but whether with rage or fear or panic, I couldn’t have said.
“Please, Kyle.” Charlotte’s voice was soft, soothing. She touched my cheek. “Just take a few deep breaths.”
I tried. I really did. But it felt like there was a vice around my chest, and some sadistic bastard was tightening it.
“She’s in the living room with Arthur and Priscilla. She...” Charlotte paused. “Her husband beat her pretty badly. I just want you to be ready when you see her.”
I stared at Charlotte. Okay, the shaking was definitely rage. I pushed myself off the couch and raced to the living room. When I saw Wendy sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs, I thought my heart might shatter. She looked up at me. Both her eyes were blackened, and there was a red welt across one of her cheeks. She was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, and there were cuts and bruises all down her arms.
“Kyle,” she whispered, and I went to her, staring at her fresh wounds. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
I dropped to my knees beside her. My teeth were clenched so hard, my jaw was aching.
“What happened, little sister?”
Arthur brought over some kind of antiseptic; I could smell it, sharp and acrid. He had a roll of gauze in one hand, and he was wearing a pair of latex gloves.
“Sir,” he said quietly, and I shifted so he could tend to Wendy’s arms. She winced as he slathered ointment on them and started applying the bandages.
I finally managed to take a slow, deep breath. I felt Charlotte’s hand on my shoulder, and I was suddenly grateful that the two women I cared for most were here with me. Even if the circumstances were so fucked up as to be unrecognisable.
“Wendy, tell me what happened.”
She looked down at her arms. “Tony found out that I’d been meeting with you. I don’t know how.” She wasn’t crying; she’d cried out all her tears in the face of his temper that first year of their marriage. “Maybe from his friends in the building. He...” She hissed a breath through her teeth as Arthur wrapped the bandages around her arms. “He took his belt to me.” She shifted in the chair and winced again.
I have no idea how I was able to stay calm. Maybe it was Arthur’s efficiency, or the way Charlotte was gently running her nails over my shoulders. “Where else did he hurt you?”
Wendy raised her eyes to me. “Everywhere,” she whispered. I felt Charlotte tense behind me.
I stood up. “Arthur.” He glanced up at me, expressionless. “Take care of her.” I turned to Charlotte, who was looking at me with a worried expression. “Help him, please?” She nodded, and I headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Wendy’s voice was high, and I turned back to the three of them.
“I told you, Wendy,” I said coldly. “If he hits you again, I’ll fucking kill him.” I turned sharply and left the room. I heard Charlotte’s heels on the marble floor.
“Kyle. Kyle!” I stopped, my fists clenched. “Kyle, look at me.” I couldn’t move. She came around to face me. “You will not.” Her mouth was set in a firm line. “Think about this before you go off half-cocked.”
I growled down at her. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?” I shouted, waving a hand towards the living room. “Just let him get away with this shit?” She held her ground in the face of my fury. “He’s a fucking bastard son of a bitch, and I’m going to wipe him off the face of the fucking planet.”
She placed a hand on my chest. Her touch and her soft voice were just enough to break through the wall of rage that was closing in on me.
“I know you’re angry. I know you want to hurt him.” She shook her head. “But you cannot for a minute think that you’re going to be able to go over there and kill him.” I snarled at her and opened my mouth to say something, but she shot out her hand and slapped me firmly. I blinked. “I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes never leaving my face. “But you needed that.”
She was right. I did. I rubbed my cheek.
“Damn, woman. I don’t envy the guy who pisses you off.” I was still furious, but the shock of her slap had knocked at least a little sense into me. “Look, you and Arthur take Wendy to the new place.” I pushed past her.
“Where are you going?”
I grinned at her over my shoulder. “Just gonna pay a friendly visit to my brother-in-law.”
“Kyle.” There was a warning in her voice. “I don’t want to have to visit you in jail.”
“Don’t worry, doll.”
“Kyle.” I turned to her. “He has a gun, remember?”
I shrugged. “Unless he carries it with him, I’m bigger and faster.” I chucked her under the chin, and she frowned at me. “Don’t worry,” I said again. “I’m calm.” Or as calm as I could be, all things considered. “I’ll be careful.” I leaned down and kissed her lightly. “See you soon.”
She said something else, but I missed it in the crash as I slammed the door behind me.
I caught him on the chin just as he opened the door.
“Hello, Tony.”
He staggered back, his hand to his jaw. He was a good six inches shorter than me, and I had at least thirty pounds on him. I punched him in the face again before he could get his balance. Blood spurted from his nose, and I shook out my fist, then cracked my knuckles.
“Nice to see you again.”
He held his nose and stared at me, his eyes wide. I grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands away from his face, grinning viciously at him. My hands tightened, and I felt his bones grinding together. He gasped and cried out in pain.
“Wendy tells me you have a gun.”
I kicked the door closed with my foot, then twisted one of his arms behind his back and shoved him face first into the wall. He struggled, but I was stronger.
“You want to tell me where it is, or do I have to knock you out and find it myself?”
“Bedroom,” he gasped, and I pushed him ahead of me, towards the back of the apartment.
“Show me,” I growled, and he pointed to the bedside table. Still holding him, I yanked open the drawer and glanced down. A Glock. Of course. “You ever been pistol-whipped, Tony?” I shoved him across the room, and he turned on me. He looked a little punch-drunk, but he still took a swing at me. I caught it in my hand and squeezed. His fingers crunched in my fist, and he screamed.
“You can’t fucking do this!” He was crying with pain and rage. “You can’t just break in here and –”
“Shut the fuck up, Tony.” I picked up the gun and checked the safety, ignoring him. He rushed at me, but I stepped aside and stuck out my foot. He went down, and I slammed my boot down between his shoulder blades. “Sorry, what were you saying? I can’t do what?” I leaned down and brushed the barrel of the gun against his cheek.
He whimpered. I ejected the magazine and shoved it into my back pocket, then pulled back the slide. The single bullet in the chamber flew out onto the floor, and Tony flinched. I rolled him over with my foot and knelt on his chest, holding up the gun so he could see it.
“Tony, I think you’ll find I can do whatever the fuck I want when my sister is involved.” I pointed the gun at him. “Open your mouth.” His eyes bulged, and he pressed his lips together. “Oh, come on, Tony,” I said. “It’s not even loaded.” I shoved the barrel of the gun against his mouth. “Open your fucking mouth, or I will beat your ass so hard, you’ll be parking in a handicapped space for the rest of your life.”
He whimpered again and opened his mouth, and I shoved the gun between his teeth.
“Feel that?” I said, and he nodded frantically. I leaned down, my voice low and dangerous. “If you ever come near my sister again, I will find you. And next time, the gun will be loaded.” The sharp smell of ammonia filled the room. He’d pissed himself. “Do not make me come after you again, Tony. I have better things to do with my time.” I raised my eyebrows. “Are we clear on this, or do you need a reminder before I go?”
He shook his head, and I pulled the gun out of his mouth and smiled at him.
“Good talk, Tony.” I stood up and stuffed the gun in the waistband of my jeans. “The divorce papers will be in the mail.”
I’d nearly reached the front door when he came at me again. I turned just as he was getting close and clocked him in the chin. He spun around, and I pushed him against the wall once more, my hand on the back of his head. His face left a red smear on the white paint.
“And here I thought we had an understanding, Tony.” I punched him low, in the kidney, and he gasped and froze for a few seconds, then collapsed. I nudged him with my foot, and he rolled over, groaning. “Come after me and mine again, and you’re a fucking dead man.”
I opened the front door and stepped out of the apartment, whistling Danny Boy.
Charlotte was livid.
I’d given her a blow-by-blow account – no pun intended – of my ‘friendly visit’ with Tony, and she wasn’t speaking to me as she dabbed peroxide on my split knuckles. I hadn’t noticed it when I’d been over there, but I must have cut myself on his ugly face. Or something.
“Come on, Charlie,” I said softly. “Talk to me.” She just glared at me and reached for the roll of gauze. I didn’t think it was that bad. “I don’t need a bandage, doll.” I lifted my hand away, inspecting my knuckles. I was always a fast healer. I glanced down at her as she knelt on the floor beside the chair in my bedroom. “Please talk to me?”
She took a deep breath. “What do you want me to say, Kyle? ‘Congratulations’?” Her expression darkened. “You could have been killed.”
I shrugged. “But I wasn’t.”
She rolled her eyes and stood up. “You sound like a teenager who manages to survive jumping off a bridge.” She dropped her hands to her hips. “Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should.”
I grinned up at her. “Did I mention that he pissed himself?”
She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “What did you do with the gun, Kyle?”
“I ate it.” She stared at me, and I stood up. “What the hell do you think I did with it, doll? I dropped it off at the police station. They were happy to have it, once I explained where I’d got it.” I waved vaguely. “Why do you think it took me so long to get back here?” I rolled my eyes. “Shit, they ask more questions than a fucking insurance agent.”
She shook her head and sat down on the bed. “Please don’t do that again. Ever.” She lifted her eyes to me, and her expression wasn’t angry any longer. “I was...” She looked away. “I was worried.”
I sat next to her and brushed the loose hair from her face. “I’m sorry, Charlie.” She smiled weakly, and I nudged her with my shoulder. “But fuck, you should have seen his face when I put the gun in his mouth.”
She laughed softly and shook her head again. “You’re incorrigible, Kyle Chase.”
“Yeah, that’s why you love me.” I flopped back on the bed and blew out a breath. “Well, that and my amazing cock.” I lifted myself on my elbows and grinned at her. She stared over her shoulder at me. “What? It’s not amazing?” I frowned, then my eyes widened as I realised what I’d said. I swallowed thickly. “Sorry, doll. I didn’t... I mean...” She turned red and looked away, staring down at the floor. “Charlie?”
She stood up abruptly. “You have rehearsal in an hour,” she said. I couldn’t fucking move; all I could do was lie there and stare helplessly at her. “I’ll see you there.” She left the room, and I threw myself back on the bed and cursed myself to Hell and back. What was it they said about assumptions? It makes an ass out of u and me?
I was such an ass.