"I need to talk to your brother," I said between clenched teeth. "Alone." Pissed, I walked past her. All I wanted was some damned peace and quiet tonight. "No, you're not." "Oh, yes, I am." "Not alone, you're not." I stopped abruptly. She almost crashed into me, but her hands flattened on my back before her body did. I turned around, looked at her quietly, waiting for her to calm down. Her face was red, her eyes glittered—from anger or embarrassment I wasn't sure. Maybe both. "You don't see anything wrong with this scenario?" I asked. She placed her hands on her waist. "The only thing that's wrong here is you trying to bully my brother. I'm not letting you or anyone do that to him again. You hear me?" My anger was fading. Why did she look so cute when she was telling me what to do? But when she defended the people she cared about and put herself before them to take the blows, she was irresistible. I softened. "You're aware," I started, wanting to erase the dark circles under her eyes. "That you're only making it worse for him, right?" She blinked. "You should let him fight his own battles," I continued. "You're doing more harm. You're enabling him." She looked stricken. I waited. She wet her lips. "All right," she said defeated. "Did you talk to my dad or something?" "What?" "Just... be careful. He's got... issues when he was a kid. Don't be too rough, all right?" She looked as exhausted as I felt. I wanted to pull her on the bed and lie down with her. Just to sleep, I realized. Just so she could rest. That was something new. I never brought a girl to bed just to sleep before. I wanted to take care of her. I scowled. Where the hell did that come from? "Did you hear what I said?" she demanded. "What?" "Never mind. Where should I stay?" "Kitchen. Off the living room, to your left." "Fine." She marched past me. I followed her. "Kar! Where are you going?" "I'm going over there," she pointed to the den, walking briskly in the wrong direction of the kitchen where I told her to wait. "And you're staying over there." "But...!" His words cut off as I stood in front of him. He was young, probably in high school. But old enough to have a sense of responsibility. And she wanted me to put on the kid gloves just because he had issues when he was a kid? How many times had he used that on her to skid over his own responsibilities and pass them on to her? No matter how strong and aggressive she was, she had a soft heart for people she cared about. I bet she felt guilty for a past, and he knew how to wield that on her. It was a kind of power for him. I knew because I was, in some way, like him when I was a kid. I attacked and swung with my fists. He, on the other hand, used them to cover up blows thrown his way and huddled in the corner like a scared mouse. Different issues, different ways of dealing with our problems, but the core was the same. Selfish. Needy. Entitled. "I'm Dylan. Hi." I just looked at him, saying nothing. He didn't look like his sister. His hair was blond, his face round and had the chubby look of a well-fed pet. Spoiled ass. "Right. I said that before. We're fixing your motorcycle, so we cool, right? We'll make it better than it was before. You're going to love it!" No apology whatsoever. No remorse on his face. In fact, he looked like I should be thanking him. I still had that selfish, angry kid inside me trying to take over, but I was stronger than he was now. But sometimes, I let him take the reigns. "Listen here, you little shit." He recoiled from me. If I had fangs, I'd bare them at him right now. Probably ripped his neck clean right off. Lucky for him, he was her brother. "You're the one who hit my motorcycle then f ucked right off." I watched him swallow and back up a step. "Aren't you?" "B-but we're going to fix it and it's going to be better than it was before. I'm a good mechanic and Vlad is the best on motorcycles. He'll be working on yours. You'll be happy that this happened. You'll see!" My jaw ticked. "Happy?" One clean punch right in his pug face. That was all I needed. Just one. "My sister said your name is Cameron. I've heard about you. I mean I've seen you play. You're savage in the basketball court. I mean, wow. You're a monster. Maybe we can play sometime after your bike's fixed. I can even fix your other cars for you. Or your friends'. I have a weakness for classic trucks. Just let me know. You want my number? I can—" He must have seen my thoughts on my face because he stopped talking and started backing away from me. "Listen, man, I didn't mean to hit your bike. I was trying to run away from Big Tony. The guy's massive. Bigger than you are. And I mean you're already huge, you know? Just look at those guns. But Big Tony, I won't have a chance of survival with him." "And you think you have one with me?" "I mean you're friends with my sister, right? Aren't friends supposed to take care of each other? We're practically families right?" I was wrong. This guy was a joke. He didn't use his fists at all. He flapped his mouth. "You see, I had this bet with Big Tony, but I thought we were joking around, you know? Turns out, he was serious. So he didn't pay his car bill when I came to collect yesterday morning. But my dad said he paid by phone that afternoon, so we all square, you know?" He moved his shoulders. He was just getting warmed up. "Anyway, he chased me out, would probably beat me up when I insisted on him paying. But I got away, you know? It was just that... I panicked, man. Panic mode activated. I backed away and hit your bike, but I wasn't sure if it was damaged or anything because I put it right back up and it stood pretty good, man." I clenched my teeth. His voice grated in my ears like a witch's nails scraping on a chalkboard. "So I told Kar and she said she was going to see if your bike was really damaged, because I didn't even hit it that hard, man. She said she made a deal with you and that—" "Quiet."