Chapter Four #2
I dropped my bags and moved toward the door.
As I reached the entrance to an opulent library, Ally spun me around and planted her lips on mine, walking me backward into the room.
The kiss wasn’t one of desire. It was a reprimand.
I knew what for, and I allowed it. She was beyond distraught and this was her way of dealing.
I heard Stash mumble, “Oh, hell yes.”
It sounded like Zane grunted in agreement.
They obviously didn’t understand the gesture for what it was.
“If you’ll excuse us…” Brent started to say dryly, but Ally abruptly released me.
And punched an unaware Brent right in the face.
“Christ!” Brent hollered. “That was fucking uncalled for.”
“No, it wasn’t,” she hissed while Brent rubbed his jaw. “You should have told her!”
He scowled before turning to the expectantly stunned men. “Now, if you’ll excuse us. Make yourselves at home,” he grumbled then, “You normally do.” He banged the doors shut behind him.
When he turned to face us, fire was building in his eyes and Ally and I headed straight for the bar tucked away in a corner.
Brent paced like a wild cat while Ally made herself a drink and I grabbed the bottle of tequila.
No glass needed. We situation ourselves on one of the couches under a large window – safe zone – and waited. I took a swig. It didn’t take long.
First, Brent gingerly picked up a large, very expensive looking, vase.
He rolled it around in his hands absently…
before it was hurdled against a wall void of picture frames.
Next, came the small table it had sat on.
That, too, ended up splintered on the floor next to the tiny, porcelain pieces on the previously whole vase.
The doors had already swung open – I knew they would eavesdrop – and three mystified men watched as Brent systematically tore apart the room, item by item.
I got up after a minute and grabbed the whiskey bottle and sat back down next to Ally, stuffing it between us.
I took a good chug off my bottle and rested my head back on the couch, praying he would hurry up and burn off some of his frustration. Same ‘ol, same ‘ol.
I couldn’t believe he didn’t have a punching bag somewhere in this joint.
Had he changed so much? Back in the day, he would beat the heck out a punching bag when he was angry or frustrated.
Although, when one wasn’t available, the furniture took the brunt of it his anger.
Some would say he threw temper tantrums, but I say better the furniture or punching bag than a person.
Finally, when most of the room was destroyed, large furniture excluded, he stopped, standing in the middle of the room and heaved gulps of air in and out.
I got up, bounding here and there through the debris, and handed him the whisky.
Forest green eyes landed on mine as he tipped the bottle up, taking a mouthful.
His eyes said it all. He wasn’t done yet.
I took the bottle back and hopped back over items and sat down, whispering to Ally, “Only a few more minutes. Three tops.”
“Two. And I bet he starts rumbling with Cole at the end,” Ally mumbled, getting up to make another drink.
No. He wouldn’t do that.
One minute and twenty-nine seconds later, I found out I was wrong.
He took a running start at Cole, who, once he saw he was being charged, ran head long into Brent.
I gasped as they slammed into one another, stalling in the air and then landing hard on something that used to be made of white wood.
Fists flew, aimed at faces and stomachs, while they rolled around like kiddies fighting after school.
“Brent Christopher Terrance, you stop right this instant,” I yelled, jumping up. Zane and Stash were trying to break it up, but weren’t having much luck. Zane even took a kick to the back of his knee, and stumbled, until I caught him as I crossed the room.
“Don’t get any closer,” Zane commanded before rushing back into the fray.
“Brent. Cole. This is absolutely ridiculous,” I yelled, putting my hand on my hip. I glanced at the bottle of tequila dangling from my other hand. Hmm.
I scuttled closer and tipped it. Not too much. I wasn’t going to waste perfectly good liquor. But, just enough to splash them plenty. Both glanced up at me, glaring. The distraction worked long enough for Stash to extract Brent, and Zane to pull Cole away.
“You feel better now?” Stash asked a breathless and bleeding Brent.
“No.”
At Zane’s look of disbelief, Brent mumbled, “Fine. Maybe a little.”
Cole panted, bleeding from his nose where it dripped down onto his expensive jacket that still bared his chest to anyone’s view.
“If they let you two go are you going to behave like darn adults?” I huffed, pointing back and forth between Cole and Brent, ending with my finger aimed at Cole. “And don’t you dare say he started it.”
Silence.
Zane grunted. Hiccupped. Then, tilted his head back…and laughed.
Everyone gawked. I’m guessing the man didn’t laugh much. It sounded rusty and gravelly like he hadn’t done it in ages.
He chortled for another minute before he snorted and rumbled, “I like you, Ember.”
“She’s taken,” Brent stated matter of fact, jerking out of Stash’s loosing grip. He stomped over to his bottle I had left in the safe zone.
“Says who, you lug?” I shouted at his back.
When he grabbed his bottle and spun around to face me, taking a few good pulls, I lifted my ever-lovin’ finger at him.
Again. “You have no right to say that. A certain golden supermodel slung over your arm tonight proves that. Don’t you dare lie and tell me you haven’t been sleepin’ with her.
Heck, there have probably been twenty more like her since I last saw you. ”
His eyes widened in fury. “Oh, you wanna talk ‘bout sex? How about we talk about you fuckin’ one of my best friends in my own goddamn office?” He paused for another nip, and then pointed his own finger at me.
“And I have every damn right to say your taken, darlin’, unlike Ally over there.
” His finger pointing moved to her. “She’s the one who didn’t fuckin’ wait. ”
She bent down and picked up a piece of wood and chucked it at him, swaying a smidge from her previous heavily laced cocktail.
“Fuck you, Brent. At least I was honest with her. How long have you been screwin’ that anorexic stick figure, anyway?
When I left it was because I was in love. Not just to get laid.”
“Have you noticed how their accents are getting a whole lot thicker the more upset they get?” Stash whispered to Zane and a now released Cole, but it was during a lull, so everyone heard.
The three of us turned scowls on Stash for his rude interruption.
He raised his hand like a five year old in the tense silence.
Brent barked, “Speak.”
Stash nodded and lowered his hand. “Just so we’re getting this straight. You were both with Ember at one point, right?” Stash appeared plum thrilled. Like it was Christmas day. The man must not have much of a life. Hard to believe since he was so dang good looking.
“Oh, what the hell.” Brent blew out a breath and yanked on his hair. “Ally’s gay. I’m straight. Ember’s Bi. All three of us were one hell of a threesome when we were growing up. Inseparable. Any more fucking questions or can we get some damn privacy now?”
Stash’s eyes positively shined with delight and it looked like he was itching to say something, but Zane beat him to it. Staring straight at Brent, dark eyes wide, he questioned in incredulity, “Who are you?”
Now on the other hand, Cole’s blue eyes were scorching me he was staring so hard. Brent didn’t seem to be much on his radar right at the moment.
Brent sighed. “The same man I’ve always been, but with a few secrets. It’s not like any of you don’t have your own.”
That shut ‘em all up, real quick-like.
“Now, do you mind?” Brent motioned to the door with his bottle. “I think you’ve heard enough.”
Cole did speak then. “Actually, I do have a question.”
Ally’s eyes bulged and she sputtered, “Not the time, Yankee.”
His grin was chilling. “Oh, I think it is the time.”
“Cole, please,” I murmured.
“Don’t fucking talk to him!” Brent roared, striding directly to me.
His furry kicked my own into overdrive. “Don’t you yell at me, mister. I can talk to whomever I darn well please.”
Brent stood toe to toe with me, seething. His eyes darted to Cole and he murmured, “Well, I have a question of my own for Cole I’ve been dyin’ to ask,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “How long have you been havin’ sex with Ember?”
Cole’s mouth opened, and then snapped shut. Amazingly, a blush stained his cheeks when he glanced at me. Oh, goodness. This was going to hurt. Brent didn’t know I had only just arrived in town and Cole didn’t want to tell him we had been strangers hitting the sheets…er, lounge chair. Cripes.
A few ticks, then Cole cleared his throat. “We only just met tonight.”
Another silence.
Brent whispered harshly - which was way worse than him shouting, “You let a fuckin’ stranger put his cock inside you? What the hell, Ember?”
Oh, heck.
I took a long sip, contemplating what to say. Nothing sounded wonderful, even in my own head. So, I went with simplicity. I shrugged like it was no big thing. “I had an itch that needed scratchin’. Obviously, Cole did, too.”
“Aw, hell,” Ally muttered, stepping behind Zane.
“An itch? A fuckin’ itch?” Brent raged.
“What do you call it when you’re doin’ the nasty with Supermodel?” I stabbed him in the chest with my index finger.
“Havin’ sex with someone I’ve known for more than two damn minutes!
” He threw his free hand up in the air, and then ran it through his curls in agitation.
“If you even care, I ended it with her tonight. It wasn’t serious.
She knew I loved someone. And it wasn’t her.
” He stepped in closer, our bodies pressed together.
Neither one of us backing down. “If you have an…itch…you fuckin’ come and see me.
” He paused bending so our noses almost touched. “You. Are. Mine.”
“No. I’m not,” I snarled. “I used to be. Just like you were once mine. But as you so delicately put it, if I were actually yours then I wouldn’t have had another man’s cock inside me tonight after only just meetin’.” I smiled sweet as pie.
“Time to go,” Stash murmured, turning toward the door.
Yeah, the poo was about to hit the fan.
“No,” Cole said loud and clear. Je-sus! Did he want to fight again?
I took a swill, stepping back from Brent, who was fairly vibrating with anger.
Cole continued with a voice that would have chilled a meat locker, “I’m not going to ask when, or how, someone branded your back.
What I want to know is if that person or persons are dead? ”
I almost dropped by liquor.