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Aria’s rising gaze is slow to meet my face, her wide eyes settling on mine when her hand goes to her mouth and my name chokes out past her lips.
It’s then that I realize Mac is holding her tight, pinning her wrist to the booth, stopping her from rising.
Temper flaring, I turn my fury on my twin in a gaze that burns his head off in my mind.
“What the fuck.” I demand when he still doesn’t let my girl go.
“You’re fucking bleeding, Rex.”
My brother’s words are for my girl. The ones spoke out loud not coming from his mouth. Reassurances to her as he fishes his phone out of his pocket and puts the thing to his face without looking.
“Rex …”
More hands grab at me, but this time they’re more calculated, covered in callouses and closer to the blood that soaks my shirt.
I am so sick of people thinking they can fucking touch me.
I snap.
Grabbing two fingers of the hands that think they can just be on me, I twist until I pin the perpetrator against the edge of the booth.
Pushing, I warp his spine over the back of the seat and wrap a hand around his fucking neck.
“Shit!” Aria’s voice breaks into my subconscious, the table jarring in my direction as the lights illuminate the face of my handsy victim.
Jordan “Jay” fucking Kauffman.
Red-tinted tunnel vision sinks in, and I add to the force I have around his fucking neck.
“Why are you here?” Jordan’s hands peel at mine, but don’t make great progress on removing my grasp from his windpipe.
I slam him against the booth when he doesn’t answer.
“Rex. Stop.” Forever the Maverick, hell-bent on testing the waters of the universe and begging to get knocked the fuck out, Mac’s grasp on my arm tugs at me and pulls us upright.
Jordan’s eyes are on my brother as my grip loosens and oxygen makes its way back into his system.
“There were fucking gunshots. They called everybody back.” Jordan comments under my grip only to fuel my rage more.
“Being back and being here are two very different things that I don’t think you comprehend, Jackass.” I punctuate my wordswith a tightening of my hand around his neck. He holds my wrist in his fist, making no real move to stop me in my tirade.
Weak ass bitch.
“You don’t understand, Rex.” Jordan wheezes under my hold, his bulging eyes filled with some kind of misplaced resolve on mine.
“No,youdon’t understand.” I jerk his ass into my face and spit my next words, “Stay the fuck away from my brother.”
“Rex,” my twin begs. “Fuckingdon’t.”
Too late.
I’m already hauling back, my fist connecting with Jordan’s nose.
40
ARIA
Blood spray.
