Draw (Gentry Boys #1)(34)

“You sure you want to do this?”

I was. Even though I’d never quite forgiven him for the humiliation which followed, I couldn’t deny how I had thrown away reason in favor of something far more raw and perilous. Perhaps that’s what I was doing now.

Slowly I pulled the straps back up over my shoulders, smoothing out the soft cotton of my dress. After washing off my face and reapplying makeup which had dissolved over the course of the day and through a hearty crying jag, I was ready.

Millie was standing in the corner of the living room, her knee propped up on the couch arm, a faint smile on her face as she spoke quietly into her phone. She nodded at me.

“Bray wants a shout of reassurance that you’re okay.”

“Bray,” I shouted from across the room, “It’s Say! And I’m okay!”

Millie laughed and listened for a moment. “He’s grumbling but says that’s good enough.” She grinned at me mischievously. “Good night, Saylor.”

I feigned innocence. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

“No,” she said with certainty. “You won’t be.”

It was Monday, not a party night, and aside from a few bursts of shrill laughter, the apartment complex was mostly silent. I walked slowly, trying to extract some enjoyment from the pleasant quiet and to quell the nerves which threatened. By the time I reached his door my heart was thudding loud as a drum.

But it turned out I needn’t have been so anxious. After several minutes of knocking and a quick peek through the window which, ironically, reminded me of another dark night not too long ago, I realized that the Gentry brothers were not home. Perhaps they had ventured out in search of women or booze, or both. Or maybe they were busy with the danger which passed as their profession. A sudden mental image of Cord getting ferociously pummeled by a vicious, faceless opponent made me wince.

I gritted my teeth and settled cross legged right in front of their door. I sent two texts to Cord’s phone but wasn’t surprised when he didn’t respond. It didn’t matter where he was; he would need to come home at some point. It also didn’t matter what he was doing or even if he rolled up here with some willing girl on his arm. I was going to tell him what I needed to tell him. An old folding chair was lying on its side in the shadows and I righted it, sitting down stubbornly and staring out at the stillness of the dark parking lot. Sooner or later everything was going to be laid out on the table.

All I needed to do was wait.





CHAPTER TWELVE


CORD



Of the three of us I had usually been the calm one, the brother who could call on a reservoir of cool strength when it was required. Of course being the steadiest one of the Gentry boys still wasn’t an advertisement worth mentioning. Chase’s foolishness was an intentional mask and half the time I couldn’t tell what was going on in that head of his. And Creed, powerful Creed, battled an army of private demons. He kept a thick armor around himself which no softness could overcome.

I burst through the apartment door in bellowing fury, still smarting over the California fiasco. Chase was spotting Creed on the bench press we kept on the back patio. They didn’t notice me right away and I paced for a moment, trying to get control of myself and failing miserably. A mason jar half full of loose change was sitting on the kitchen table and I picked it up, hurling it towards the cabinets where it shattered into a thousand pieces.

Chase was first to the sliding glass door. He looked at me incredulously as I continued to stalk back and forth like a caged panther.

“What the hell, man?”

I started throwing empty punches at the wall. I imagined the satisfying feeling of inflicting damage at the end of each hook.

“Fuckin’ shithead,” I growled, lifting one of the crappy folding kitchen chairs above my head and knowing it simply had to be broken.

“Cord!”

Both my brothers were standing in the patio doorway now. They glanced at one another and then back at me as I held the rickety piece of furniture over my head.

“Don’t,” Chase said mildly. “Creed’s fat ass already broke two of ‘em. I won’t be able to enjoy my Marshmallow Mates as much if I’ve got to stand.” He smiled at me but it wasn’t in mocking. I could see the concern in his eyes.

Creed wiped at the sweat running off his brow and watched me while I lowered the chair back to the ground and then sat in it. I still felt as if there was a hurricane churning underneath my skin.

“The fight tonight? I’m in it. I’ve got to get some of this shit out of my head.”

Chase circled around and settled into one of the other chairs. “Looks like you already saw some action,” he commented, pointing to my knuckles which were a little cut up.

“Just a little,” I said with a straight face.

Creed downed a bottle of water and peered at me. “You get the better end of the deal?”

“What do you think?”

Chase laced his hands together on the tabletop. “What happened?”

“Dipshit made a grab for her so I got to him first.” I sighed and leaned back in the chair. “Wasn’t pretty, boys. I’m sure I broke a few more things on his expensive body.”

“Good,” Creed shrugged and opened another bottle of water but Chase looked troubled.