7
AUSTIN
A dull thud.
Not the pop you hear in the movies.
It’s been a while since I’ve taken a punch—I gave up bar brawling years ago—and I forgot.
A hard fucking strike, and my head almost hits the brick of the building.
“Chance, no!” Carly’s voice.
I rub my jaw. My little brother—half brother, the dickweed—has nice form, but didn’t put enough power behind it to even think about taking me out. Surprising, really. The man looks like a tank. Plus, if I’m dead, he gets more money.
“I’m taking you home, Carly.” Chance takes Carly’s hand.
Jealousy erupts in my gut.
Without thinking, I grab Carly’s arm and yank her out of his hold. “Like hell you are.”
“Austin,” Chance says, “I told you she was off limits.”
“Off limits?” Carly shrugs me off crosses her arms. Her glare is directed at Chance. “And just who are you, Chance Bridger, to decide I’m off limits?”
“Carly…” Chance shakes his head.
“The lady doesn’t want to go with you.” I take her hand once more, this time more gently.
“Austin, you don’t know—”
Carly rips her hand out of mine once more. “Shut up, Chance. Just shut up.” She scans the small crowd that has gathered. “The same goes for all of you. I’m so tired of being everyone’s pity case. I’m so freaking tired of all of it!” She races around the building.
Pity case? What’s she talking about? I attempt to follow her, but Chance grabs my arm and holds me back.
“I swear to God,” I grit out. “We may share a father, but I will fucking take you out, man.”
He scoffs. “I’d like to see you try. I was holding back before.”
Turning, he waves off the onlookers. “Show’s over.”
They don’t move.
“I said get the fuck out of here!” Chance yells.
They disperse and only Chance, Lexie, and Amanda remain, the rustling of the wind through the nearby pines and crickets chirping fill the air.
“You may be the size of Mount Rainier, but I grew up dodging the drug gangs in Beacon Hill, and I’ve been in a few bar fights in my day, which I’m betting you haven’t,” I tell him. “I can take you easy.”
“Just stop it, both of you,” a blond woman—Lexie, if I recall correctly—says.
Right. Lexie. In fact, she works for Chance. Us. A vet.
“Stay out of this, Lex,” Chance says.
“No.” She steps close. “You can fire me if you want to, Chance, but I’m going to say something here. I realized something today as I watched Carly work. I went easy on her, it being her first day and all. Let her feed the puppies. I was wrong to do that. Dead wrong.”
“What the fuck is she talking about?” I demand. “What’s wrong with Carly?”