Dawson
I saw red. Pure red.
I’d never wanted to fucking hurl my brother across a room before but I was mere seconds away from adding it to my bucket list and crossing it off all in the same night.
He was touching Ivy. My Ivy.
I paused on my way over to the table. My Ivy? Jesus Christ.
Breanna had one of her friends take her home after screaming at me in the parking lot (classy). She was livid. No, she was beyond livid. She wasn’t even screaming proper insanities at me. Something about me knowing that Ivy was back and how I didn’t deny it.
She wanted to know why I hadn’t told her, and I couldn’t give her a truthful answer. Deep down I knew why I didn’t tell her, because she would forbid me to talk to her and I wasn’t going to do that – which was sure to put a wedge in my new-ish relationship with her.
I told her that I’d talk with her after she calmed down a bit and she rolled her eyes and stomped off with her friend, saying she’d talk to me when she felt like it.
Okay, then. I’m sure she wanted me to chase after her but after knowing Breanna for years, I knew that it was better to talk with her when she had a level head. She was slightly less crazy that way.
I probably should have gone after her; that’s what a normal boyfriend would do, but as soon as I saw my drunken brother resting his dumb head on Ivy’s delicate shoulder, all thoughts of being a decent boyfriend flew out the fucking window.
My eyes fell over the long curve of her neck, all the way to the slope of her collarbone and then to his stupid, fucking head laying there.
I was only a few feet away, keeping my eyes trained on him, when I noticed that his eyes were closed.
I stopped, squinting my eyes. Is he passed out?
I flipped my attention over to Ivy and her face was a mix between remorse and concern and then I instantly realized that he was probably drunker than drunk, and was actually passed out on her shoulder. Ivy’s eyes softened, as if she was portraying how sorry she was that he was drunk and it was like my heart was torn inside my chest.
Ivy had nothing to be sorry about. But I knew exactly who should be.
His fucking girlfriend, or maybe ex-girlfriend, Carrie. They’d broken up and gotten back together so many times over the last few months that I couldn’t keep up. When they were broken up, it was so embarrassingly obvious to everyone because Emmett would drown himself in liquor and then sober up for work, only to be face-to-face with her again because she worked at the tattoo shop, too.
Why didn’t he fire her? I had no idea. He owned the business, he made the rules, yet he just couldn’t do it.
“Emmett,” I hissed, but he didn’t move an inch. I walked over and a hush fell over the table. I could see the penetrating stare from Max and I was absolutely sure that Becca was scowling at me because, well, she hates me.
I brought my clenched fist up, opening it, and nudged
his head with my hand. I wanted to smack the hell out of him, but since he was leaning on Ivy, I tried to be gentle.
Fucking shit.
Emmett moaned but that was it. He didn’t move an inch which meant I was going to have to carry him out of here.
I didn’t have time for this shit. I had a girlfriend who was fucking pissed at me, and then I had Ivy who looked at me like I’d run over her puppy moments ago when she saw me with Breanna, and unfortunately, that was my biggest concern.
I looked back at Max. “Help me carry him to my truck.”
Max slid out of the booth, his weight causing the leather booth to squeak. I reached towards my brother and pulled his arm to slide him out. His head wobbled off of Ivy’s shoulder and hit the back of the booth with a loud thud.
As soon as I had one of his heavy arms draped over my shoulders, Max did the same for the other. I paused and looked up at Ivy, who was biting her fingernail, staring at the three of us.
“Ivy…” I started, feeling totally unsure of myself, which seemed to be a common thing when I was around her. “I know you’re pissed at me, but can you go see if he has an open tab and come out and let me know so I can pay it?”
Her face faltered for a second, small creases forming around her eyes, but then she gave me a curt nod.
I swallowed, feeling my pulse hammering underneath my skin and then started to drag my brother out of the bar. No one even paid us any attention, which meant one thing: this had happened way too often and it was becoming a problem.
The chilly autumn air cooled my glistening skin as I leaned against the fender of my truck after Max and I shoved Emmett in the back. I honestly felt a little unstable. Things were getting out of control.