Page 19 of Last Man Standing

“Ew!” I jam my fist into his sore ribs and shove him off. “Don’t touch me.”

“You got your period or somethin’, Princess?”

I shoot an angry glare back to the yard and watch, furious, as Sebastion climbs off the ground. He grunts now that the cold eats into his aching muscles, and for the moment he spends with one knee on the snow, one foot in front of it, and all his weight resting on the precarious frame, I consider sprinting closer and kicking his supporting leg out from beneath him.

Probably wouldn’t hurt him. Probably injure myself doing it.

But watching him fall might be worth the effort.

While Lincoln stumbles away and sweats on Nova, I sneer toward the jerkoff who prides himself on being the least likable person in every room he enters.

“They say eating avocados helps regulate a woman’s estrogen spike during that time of the month.” He stretches to his full height and shows off all the myriad ways he can appear arrogant, even without moving his face all that much. “Avocados are an excellent source of healthy fats and fiber, and they manage cortisol levels, which we all know directly affects stress.” His eyes dance with mirth. With giddiness. With pure delight. “Need some avocado, Princess? I mean, I won’t get it for you, since I’m not one of those clowns who enjoys fetching shit for royalty. But if you run—” He points toward the far end of the property. “—I might toss one. See if I can bean you in the back of the head while you’re going.”

“You’d think a guy with no friends might attempt to be more palatable sometimes. Ya know, so those of us forced to spend time with him are less inclined to wanna shoot him in between the eyes.” I stare straight down my nose at the asshole too oblivious for his own good. “Not even gonna try?”

“Why be palatable when I’d prefer my enemies choke?”

“You’re gonna need to watch your mouth, Jameson.” Less Nova-focused now, Lincoln grabs my shoulder and tugs me back a step. “Walk away.”

“Nah,” he dismisses my brother and stares straight into my eyes. “Did you know I wanted to play pro football once upon a time? Star quarterback, baby. The chicks really dig that kinda prestige. If you wanna try the avocado thing, I’d get to practice my throws, and you’d get a little exercise to work through your stuck-up attitude. Exercise is, after all, beneficial for that time of the month too. Plus.” He splits his lips, bloody and all, into an infuriating grin. “I’d really like to see that fucker splat against the back of your head.”

“Hey!” Lincoln tosses me away and squares up. “You don’t get to speak to her like that!”

“Why not?” Sebastion stalks closer. “You said I can’t fuck her.”

Surprise bursts from the base of my throat. “Excuse me?”

“I received instructions to kill her, but I don’t feel like it just yet.”

Lincoln’s anger burns a thousand degrees hotter.

“No killing and no fucking. Which just leaves us with talking. I don’t know about you, Castro, but I’m gonna give the energy I get, so for as long as she wants to act like a spoiled princess, I’ll treat her like one. Though I have no clue why she’s complaining.” His dark eyes swing across and lock on mine. “I just gave you legitimate, helpful health advice, since you’re clearly on the rag.”

“Listen, jackass! I don’t know what kinda⁠—”

“No.” Lincoln holds me back and points into the distance. “March on, Jameson. Go for a run or something. Exercise is good for you, right?”

“I was exercising! Locked you up, too. But then Princess Scarlett crashed our party, which is so weird, since I know she prefers the company of a dead soldier’s bedroom and her own hand.”

With a horrified squeak, Nova flies down the porch steps and wraps her arm around Tank’s. She swings the seven-foot asswipe around and leads him on a walk to… anywhere but here. “Ry had this hideout a few minutes from here. Through the trees.” She risks a glance back, to Lincoln’s flaring nostrils and my balled fists. “Did he ever tell you about it? That’s the sort of stuff dudes talk about, right?”

“He’s such a piece of shit.” I turn to my brother and carefully finger the split above his brow, pushing the skin back together. “He’s not worth⁠—”

“That was on you!” He shoves my hand away and stuns me with the poison in his words. “You busted your way into a situation that had nothing to do with you, Scarlett. You started that shit.”

“But…” I stumble back a step, the punch of his anger slamming me square in the stomach. “Are you serious? He said…”

“I know what he said! I know the bullshit that comes out of his mouth is nasty and not okay, and I intend to pop him in the fuckin’ face for it, cause you’re my baby sister and nobody gets to speak to you that way. But you’re the one who came out snapping and swiping for no reason except your own bad mood. You’re the one who starts a fight with him, and then you cry foul when he bites back.”

“He’s a pig! He’s absolutely disgusting and⁠—”

“You don’t get to smack a wasp’s nest with a stick and then pretend they stung you for no reason.” He glares out at the duo as they wander farther and farther away. “He’s a dick. He’s unlikable. And fuck knows, his big mouth is probably gonna get him killed one day. But don’t act like you didn’t just start that argument. You don’t want him to speak to you?” He stalks toward the back door and swings it wide, but before stepping inside, he glances across and burns me with the disgust in his eyes. “Put the fuckin’ stick down.”

Shame and embarrassment flood my veins as my big brother, my always-supporter, stomps inside the house and slams the door behind him. While Nova and Sebastion meander farther onto the property next door, and Lincoln barks out a frustrated “fuck!” inside, I tip my head back and swallow the infuriating humiliation that bubbles in my blood and swells in my belly.

What the hell is wrong with you, Scarlett?

Why are you like this?