2. Easton #2
Only when we are in the hallway on our own do I bother flexing my hands to work out the ache in my joints. Not that I regret it. If anything, the pain I’ll go through tonight is kind of a badge of honor. Every throb reminds me of what I did for Sarah, and she will always be worth it.
“That motherfucker.” Preston scrubs a hand over his close-cropped hair before growling as we step into the elevator. “He would come up with a deal like that, wouldn’t he? I won’t press charges if you don’t press charges. The bastard.”
“He beat up a girl who probably weighs a hundred pounds only after a heavy meal,” I remind him, jamming a finger against the button for the ground floor. “I wouldn’t put anything past him.”
“Do you really think Dad will let him get away with this?”
“How do I know? Fuck.” Flexing my fists, staring at my reflection in the mirrored elevator door, it’s not only my disgusted snarl I see.
It’s her. The girl whose name I don’t know, but who showed up at the worst fucking time tonight and decided to play the big, bad hero when she didn’t have the first fucking clue what was happening out there.
To her, we were a couple of bullies beating the shit out of a defenseless guy.
She wanted to swoop in and save him, didn’t she?
How would she feel, whoever she is, if she was lying on a gurney in the ER after someone who’s supposed to love her decided to use her as a punching bag?
I can see her clearly. Wide eyes set in a pale face framed by glossy blonde curls.
A small frame—it makes me wonder how she would hold up against the kind of beating Brody gave Sarah.
My stomach turns when I try to imagine it, which means I should probably stop trying.
Would little miss pain-in-the-ass run in and get a security guard to stop us if Brody was her shithead boyfriend? Or would she thank us?
“Do you think Sarah is in a room yet?” I ask once we reach the lobby. It’s quiet, pretty much empty except for the people behind the desk who know what happened earlier, judging by the way they eye us.
Instead of avoiding the judgmental women at the front desk, Preston walks straight over to them and folds his arms on the counter.
“Is our sister in a room yet? Or is she still in the ER?” There’s no need to use names.
They know who we are after years of Dad parading us around.
His twin sons, along with a beautiful daughter and a wife whose life revolves around charity events. The perfect family.
We shattered that illusion tonight.
I didn’t expect her to be helpful, but then she probably wants to get us out of her face after watching us walk in with Frank between us and Dad waiting at the elevator, looking like he was ready to end our lives.
After checking the computer, she murmurs, “It looks like she hasn’t been transferred upstairs yet. ”
Without another word, we turn and walk side-by-side to the doors leading into the ER. At the very least, Sarah deserves to hear what happened—if she doesn’t already know. Paul might have been in to talk with her by now. I hate to think of her lying there alone and in pain, imagining the worst.
As it turns out, that’s exactly what she’s been doing, since she bursts into tears as soon as we find her. “What did you do? What were you thinking? I should never have told you anything!” she sobs.
“Hey,” Preston says with a shrug as he sits on the edge of her bed. “Is it our fault the asshole was stupid enough to show up here? He probably wanted to make sure you were protecting his ass.”
“He got what was coming to him,” I add, while staring at the stitches in her chin. She’ll have a scar now, all because that motherfucker can’t control himself. All because nobody ever taught him there are certain things a man doesn’t do.
I wish we had killed him before that nosy cunt found us out there.
“And don’t even try to defend him,” Preston warns.
“No, I’m not doing that,” she insists, with tears in her eyes. “Never again. That’s a promise.”
I hope she means it, because I don’t think I could handle her going back to him. I want to believe she’s smarter than that, but I’m realistic. I doubt today was the first time he put his hands on her that way. It’s just the first time we found out about it.
Her swollen blue eyes well with fresh tears as she looks back and forth between us. “What’s going to happen to you guys? Chief Wilder was in here, and he made it sound like you beat Brody up pretty bad.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her with a smirk. “We can handle it.”
“I can’t live with the idea of you guys getting in trouble for trying to help me.” A single tear rolls down her bruised cheek—how can something that small make my chest ache like it does?
“We made our choice,” Preston tells her while I nod in agreement. “And we don’t regret it.”
“I just wish you didn’t get caught.”
Now the ache in my chest is more like a burning sensation. If it wasn’t for the anonymous girl with a big mouth, we could have gotten away with it.
“Don’t worry,” I grunt, watching my sister cry while picturing the anonymous girl in my head again.
She’s damn lucky I don’t know her name. If I did, I might have to make it my business to make her regret sticking her nose in where it doesn’t belong.