Twenty-nine #3
When the initial shock wore off a wave a fury ran through his eyes. Before I could comprehend what was happening, he was lunging forward and swinging right at my head with full force. Damn, did it hurt. No doubt I would have a killer headache after this.
I stumbled backward but still managed to keep my balance.
I wanted to retreat and avoid the pain I knew was coming, but I started it, and I was not going to be a coward and back down.
When he swung again, I managed to dodge it and throw my own punch that made contact with his arm.
Proud of myself for hitting him twice , I raised my arms to brace myself for his punch to my face.
Of course that wasn't where his fist went.
It was a smart move on his part to send his punch flying to my gut.
Getting punched in the stomach sends anyone crumbling to the ground in an instant and I was no exception.
The wind was knocked out of me brutally.
I hunched over and clutched my stomach, my knees buckling to the ground.
I wasn’t looking at his face, but I could feel his taunting presence linger over me.
Not wanting to seem pathetic, I tried to stand back up. Easton barely tapped my shoulder to send me right back to the ground with a whimper. His fists were clenched by his sides as he seethed with anger, but he didn't touch me again.
He began to pace around me. "Don't be mad at me, Emerson! He hit me , not the other way around."
Emerson was in clear distress, battling between wanting to help and keeping her distance. She chose distance, most likely not wanting to get hit by her brother because anyone that was in his way when he was angry got what they got. If she got in the crossfire, then that was on her.
Actually, scratch that. That would be true if it was anyone else, but not her. Easton would freak out if he accidentally hit his sister.
Now that the chaos had come to a stop she was kneeling by my side. She side-eyed Easton as she inspected me to see exactly how much damage was done. It wasn’t like he beat me up, he just hit me a couple of times, but my sister was worried.
"I could be beating the living hell out of you right now, but I'm not going to!" Easton yelled furiously. "I don't want to hurt you, Elias. It doesn't make me happy to hurt you."
"I can't tell."
His eyes were practically bulging out of his head. "Now there's going to be a bruise on my chin and it's your fault. But because I'm genuinely the best brother in the world, I'm going to let you run away."
It was quiet as he waited for me to stand up. Macy was watching intuitively like we were in a damn reality TV show. Emerson was being very compassionate, and it felt odd to me. Her loyalty to Easton was strong so to see her keep close to me was unusual.
“When you make it to wherever you're going, text me,” she whispered as she helped me up by my arm. “We have no clue how the weed is going to hit you, and I want to make sure you stay alive.”
“How kind of you,” I grumbled.
Easton flicked his wrists to urge me to move along. He was very adamant about me leaving and I believed it was because he was trying to restrain himself. My brother had serious anger issues.
I was over it. I was done entertaining his witty remarks and bad humor and giving him the time of day.
If I would have continued to ignore him, let him push me around a bit but show no emotion, he would have left me alone and my head wouldn't be pounding right now.
I always gave into what he wanted and that was what made the situation worse.
No longer would I entertain his stupidity. If I pretended like he didn't exist, then I could alleviate all problems between us. He could see how it feels to be the one getting ignored instead of doing the ignoring. Maybe it would make him give a damn.
My stomach was sore and my ankle was throbbing, I probably twisted it when Easton pushed me down. I knew was not broken and I don’t even think it sprained, it was just hurt. I was lucky.
No one protested when I walked… I mean limped out. Leaving avoided the possibility of more problems and that was what we all wanted. Well, maybe not Macy. She looked as if she wanted a bowl of popcorn to go with the drama.
My feet already knew where to take me because it was the only place I wanted to be lately.
I already knew that Javi would want an explanation for what had happened and at this point I owed him it.
I couldn't keep running to him when something bad happened and then refuse to tell him what exactly went down.
I stood on the front porch for a minute contemplating whether or not I should even be here.
Easton's agitating voice was lingering in my mind.
What if he was right? What if when Javier finally knew everything, he'd think I was too much to deal with?
He only knew pieces, but he had proven that he was willing to work with a lot.
Still, I wondered if maybe my brother was right.
Because who would genuinely choose me?