He killed the engine and declared, “I’m coming in. I need to see Carter.”
A ribbon of hesitation tangled inside me. I remembered the anger I’d sensed from him and the reason. Carter was released from the hospital today. “I’m not sure that’s smart.”
“Look, I won’t do anything stupid,” he proclaimed. “If that is what you’re worried about. I just want to apologize. I never meant to lose control like that.”
I wasn’t buying it, but what did I care? “Okay, but it’s your funeral. Apparently, my mother has it out for you.”
A grin broke out over his lips. “Don’t most mothers?”
Before he could try to carry me, because I couldn’t deal with being that close to him again, I exited the car and hobbled my way to the front door. He caught up with me quickly. The house was dark and quiet as we entered, leaving me to wonder if anyone was home. I gestured for him to follow me up the stairs.
I knocked on Carter’s bedroom door, glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one was coming. If Angie or Steven found Brock in the house… I refused to even think about what that scenario would look like.
From the other side of the door, a voice grumbled something that sounded like “what.” I rolled my eyes and cracked the door. “Carter?”
“What the fuck do you want?” my lovely stepbrother groused.
“I brought you a visitor,” I replied smugly, no longer feeling guilty about Brock being in the house.
Brock shoved open the door and brushed past me, going straight for the bed. The look on Carter’s face was absolutely terrified when Brock approached him, and I instantly regretted agreeing to this.
He is going to kill him.
Carter must have had the same thought, because he shifted uncomfortably on his bed like he was searching for something. His phone maybe? But Brock got there first, and Carter froze. Brock hovered over his bed like Death waiting to take Carter’s soul. “I’m only going to tell you this once. Stay away from Josie,” he warned, his voice so dark and dangerous it sent a shiver down my spine.
I blinked, unable to believe what I was hearing. Brock threatening my stepbrother on my behalf. Why?
Brock leaned forward and whispered something to Carter as my fingers tightened on the doorknob. What was he saying? I strained to hear, but I couldn’t make out a single word. Then Brock straightened, Carter watching his every movement like a hawk.
For the first time, my stepbrother went tongue-tied and pale. He looked as if he had gotten a glimpse of death.
Brock sauntered from the room, never looking back, his face a cold mask as he took my hand, pulling me away. With long strides, he ate up the hallway, shoulders rigid. I felt the tension from him in the air around us.
“Wait,” I panted, tugging back on his arm just as we reached the top of the stairs. The obvious pain in my voice halted him in his tracks.
“Shit, I forgot,” he cursed, running a hand over his face.
I frowned, leaning all my weight on my good foot. “What was that all about?”
Something darted over his eyes but was gone the next second. “Just some unfinished business,” he clipped out.
“Okay, so you’re not going to tell me.” The harsh reality that he was still keeping secrets splashed over me like a cold shower.
He didn’t respond.
“You lied to me. God, you’re such an asshole.” The words ripped from me, and I hated the hurt I heard in them. I didn’t want Brock to have the power to cause me pain. I had enough people in my life who disappointed and hurt me, and I sure as hell didn’t need another.
He held out his hand and demanded, “Give me your phone.”
I stared at him, locking our eyes. “What do you want from me?”
“Right now, just your phone,” he stated flatly. He was all business, unyielding and arrogant.
Annoyed, I dug it out of my pocket and slipped it into his open palm.
His fingers brushed over my hand as they closed over the phone and tingles flared between us, a spark neither of us wanted.
My heart pounded as he tapped on the screen, a scowl marring his lips. “If he so much as looks at you the wrong way, I want you to text me. Got it? I’m not screwing around.”