Page 181 of Silver Sweet
Sure, I am not great at fixing things.
But that has to change sometime.This time. Before Harriet or even Phoenix can utter a word, I’m heading to my bedroom. Sliding past people means getting random body sweat on my skin. It’s not gross for me, but I just think about Beckett. I know he deals with body sweat at the ballet studio, but hopefully none of this is triggering his OCD.
“Excuse me.Excuse me.” I weave between people. “Pardon.Merci.” I duck underneath someone’s outstretched arm, finally reaching the hallway that leads to my room.
I push open the door, and a loudthwompcatapults my heart to my throat.
Ben and a broad, stocky dude are throwing fists, tearing at each other’s shirts.Justin. It has to be Justin Dupont—I don’t have any other 6’5’’ friends with wide, muscular frames. He played defensive end for Vanderbilt in the SEC. Ben body slams him into the wall. Fuckfuckfuck.
I don’t think, I’m just bolting to my little brother. “HEY!” I scream and try to push my way between them, but they’re shoving, pulling, punching.
“FIGHT!” someone screams from the hall. “FIGHT!”
Holy shit, what is happening?
“BEN!” I yell, but he’s all focused rage. His knuckles collide with Justin’s jaw. I hear a sickening crack and then Ben gets tackled into the wall. His shoulders make impact with my Thomas Cole painting in a loudthud. The frame rattles free, and the canvas clips the sharp corner of my dresser on the way to the floor.
My concern lies solely with my brother who looks like he’s ready to murder Justin. I don’t know what fucking happened. I don’t care. I just want this to end before Ben gets hurt.
I turn on my friend. “JUSTIN! FUCKING STOP!” I yank his shirt and slip in between their bodies.Bad move. I’m six-one. They’re both four inches taller. Justin throws a punch at Ben, and I’m at a horrible angle. When Justin’s arm snaps back, his elbow collides with the soft tissue of my eye.
Immediatepain. Sharp, spiky fucking agony.
I drop to the ground in a squat to avoid another assault to my eye socket. Vision blurred, I squint, but everything happens too fast.
Someone bulldozes into the room, and I have to blink multiple times to realize…it’s Phoenix.
Phoenix is thrusting Justin off my brother and body slamming him into the ground.
Phoenix is laying one, two, three punches in Justin’s face.
Ben is breathing heavier, his eyes wide. Neck swiveling as he takes in the total annihilation of our bedroom. Dents in the walls. His bed keeled over to the side as if a leg broke. My blue Gibson has been bumped off the rack and lies face-down on the ground.
People are shouting. Screaming. More bodies swarm my bedroom, but these are older men.Bodyguards.My vision blurs too much to count how many are here, but our security detailquickly separates Phoenix and Justin, wrenching them to their feet.
“What the fuck, Justin?!” I scream at him from the ground.
Justin’s nose flares, and he points accusingly at my little brother. “That shit started it, Tom.”
“I highly doubt that. Andthat shitis my little brother.”
“Our little brother,” Eliot says, storming into the room while buttoning his pants. He was probably getting head in his bedroom as chaos reigned in mine.
Phoenix is trying to wrestle out of my bodyguard’s restraint. “I won’t!Okay, Ian. I’ve cooled the fuck off.” He hasn’t cooled off at all, and it shouldn’t make me smile. But I love how hot he burns. His intense eyes keep darting over to me.
Ben glowers. His bodyguard has a protective hand on his chest, preventing him from charging Justin. “Tell them what you said to me,” Ben growls. “Tell them, you fucking coward.”
“Speak,” Eliot sneers.
Justin raises his hands. “I didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”
Fuuuuck.He went after Harriet?“Get the fuck out,” I snarl.
“Make that everyone,” I hear Beckett from the doorway.
Then Charlie yells from the hall, “Everyone out! Party is over!!”
Justin doesn’t move. Not with Eliot obstructing his pathway out the door. Eliot’s bodyguard and mine—the Wreath brothers—are on the tips of their toes, ready to pounce between us and Justin.
