“Don’t.”

I held still.

The argument turned serious in the other room.

My brother continued in the same tense voice, “You put that shit on me. Fuck you. You’re choosing him over me. That’s the real fight here. You knew. You knew, Zeke! I told you this night would come. You asked me about it.”

“That was a month ago.”

“Tough shit. Who cares? This guy is bad for your entire house.”

“He’s a legacy. His dad. His grandfather. His uncles. Some cousins. I can’t kick him out.”

“Then you’re choosing. Me, I have no problem doing this alone. Look the other way, Zeke. Better yet, take off. Spend the night with some chick. She can vouch for you, say you were there all night.”

I waited.

There was no response.

A floor creaked.

The door opened silently, and in the dark, I could just make out my brother’s eyes.

Zeke was behind him, his head down, his hands on his hips.

He looked up, saw me, and cursed. His entire face twisted. “Fine. Fuck. Fuuuck, man.” He was cursing, but he was being quiet about it.

“Go. I know what room he’s in.”

Another glare at me, then Zeke grabbed his keys, wallet, phone, and he shouldered past me. He slipped out exactly how we’d come in. Blaise nodded toward the door. “We need to wait a little. You think Bren can hold off the other two while we’re in here?”

Of course, he heard me.

I wasn’t even pretending otherwise by now. I nodded. “Yeah. She’ll hold them off.” I eyed him. “You’ve done this before?”

I caught a flash of his teeth in the room. “Let’s just say I really hate this guy. And I’m hoping this permanently scars him.”

Another alarm sounded through me.

My brother was one scary guy. I was starting to wonder if I was better off as his brother, or worse off? Time would tell.

“Come on.” He started for the door, but it swung open.

“Zeke? You said—” A guy walked in.

He took two steps inside, his entire face squished up in annoyance, saw Blaise, saw me, and he visibly jerked to a halt. He went white as a ghost at the same time he turned to yell, but my brother was on him. He grabbed the guy’s shoulder, thrust the meaty side of his arm into his mouth, and moved, catching the door with his foot so it wouldn’t slam shut.

That all happened in two seconds.

It took me a second to realize this was Harper.

The next second I was moving. I grabbed a towel from the hanger. Blaise took his arm out at the same time I stuffed the towel into his mouth, and then I was holding Harper against the wall. Blaise moved back, easing the door shut so it clicked softly. Then we both pushed Harper over.

He wasn’t fighting.

That registered on the third second.

His eyes never moved from Blaise, and he was trembling.

This guy? This was the dirty pervert whom Tabatha had forced herself to kiss for her dad? He looked like a terrified five-year-old. He was muscular, with blond hair that was combed back. He was wearing khaki shorts and an actual pink polo. Fucking pink. I didn’t think guys like this existed.

I looked down. Yep. Loafers. They looked like velvet, but I couldn’t be sure in the dark without feeling them. I was only working off the moonlight streaming through the window.

Blaise took one look at him, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, Harper. I thought you’d have more fight this time around.”

I took the towel out and Harper said, not even giving me the time of day, “Right. ’Cause that helped last time.”

Blaise shrugged. “Yeah. Well, this time you should be happy it was me here and not Zeke.” He bent, grabbing something from Harper’s pockets. He pulled his phone out and it was lighting up. Tabatha calling was on the screen.

He answered, “Pitts or Greenly?”

I cursed, grabbing the phone from him. “Hey.”

A moment of silence, and then Jordan was cursing. “You fucking kidding me? You took him with that piece of shit?”

Blaise smirked.

Harper’s eyes were wide again, his mouth falling down a bit.

Jordan wanted this guy. That meant Jordan was going to get this guy. I looked right at my brother, because he wasn’t the only one who could choose. “There’s a panel in the fence that’s loose. Bren saw us come in. She can show you.”

Blaise swore under his breath, turning away.

I added into the phone, “Go the opposite way of the back door. We’ll be at a big bathroom window.”

“I could yell, you know.”

Both Blaise and I turned to him.

He seemed to lose all the blood from his face again, and he staggered a step. The back of his head hit against the wall, knocking a picture down. Blaise shut his eyes, sighing. “Seriously?”

We had to move.

I took Harper by the arm, moving him to the bathroom.

Again, I expected a fight. Again, there was no fight. If I were this guy, I would’ve been throwing punches. I would’ve had the door torn down by now, maybe have the window shattered. I’d be damned sure to wake the entire house up.

I would not be walking out. That’s what I wouldn’t be doing.

“Let’s go.” Blaise followed us into the bathroom, shutting the door.

Harper was now focused on me. “Shit. You guys do look alike. I didn’t believe the hype.”

Blaise laughed. “We’re all in psych together.”

Harper twisted his head around. “I’m not in your psych class.”

“You sure as shit are, when you bother to show up.”

Harper looked back at me. “Damn.”

Then we heard soft footsteps on the porch and two figures showed at the window.

Harper tensed, moving back into me. He started to resist me. “No. No way, dude.”

Now he came to his senses?

Jordan wasn’t having it. A hard glint in his eyes, he reached through the window, took hold of Harper’s polo and yanked the guy through the window. His head and torso cleared it. The tops of his legs banged into the window frame, but Zellman was there. He knelt, scooping the bottom half of Harper, and as I climbed out, the two of them were halfway across the yard.

Blaise hopped out after me. He grabbed my shirt at the same time he reached back inside, pulling the window shut again. He released me, moving around me. “Can’t be too trustful.” He was hurrying after the guys.

I darted after, both of us nearing them just as they got to the fence.

Bren was there, holding the loose board open. Her mouth was set, her eyes almost as hard as Jordan’s. She was not happy.

Blaise noted it, too, whistling under his breath. “Fight sex, brother. You’re going to have fun tonight.”

“Shut up.” Bren pinned him with a dark look.

Blaise still grinned, but he kept quiet. Then he stopped, because now he figured out his mistake.

Jordan and Zellman were carrying Harper to Jordan’s truck.

And guess where Bren and I were both going?

He had his keys out, but he paused in the middle of the alley. “Fuck.”

Bren moved around him, taunting him, “Can’t leave your Wagon here. People will see it.”

I moved around the other side. “And you know we won’t let you follow us.”

Yeah. He had messed up.

“Cross.” Jordan was digging into his pockets. He tossed me keys. He and Zellman put Harper in the back, climbing in right after him.

I asked Bren, “You want to drive?”

Her scowl was instant. “Don’t think that’s going to appease me.”

My brother laughed behind me. “Fight. Sex.”

Ignoring Blaise, I followed Bren’s cue. She went to the passenger side, so I got behind the wheel. Starting the engine, I kept the lights off, using the alley lights as I backed us up. Once I got to the road, I reversed, turned the lights on, and headed off.

Jordan opened the window so we could talk, but as I drove out of town, no one said a word.

Not even Harper.

BREN

We’d been here before.

Different night. Different town. Different guy.

Same situation.

A guy hurt someone Jordan loved. The last guy had hurt his sister. This guy touched his girl. It didn’t matter if Tabatha chose to do it. She felt put in a situation where she had to, or her mom was in danger. To Jordan that meant this guy took advantage of Tabatha, i.e., he hurt her.

The last time all the guys took hits. This time, at the end of an abandoned dead end, Jordan pushed the guy away and began circling him.

“What’s going on? Why’d you ditch DeVroe?” The guy was looking at us, edging backwards. He was skittish, jumping as Jordan kept moving around him.

“You touched Tabatha Sweets.”

Jordan’s head was down. He kept going, swinging his arms at his side, a gentle sway, as if he were slowly warming up. What he was doing was the opposite. He was fighting for control, but there was no mistaking the seriousness in his tone. The danger rippling from him, even as he towered over Harper by a few inches.

The guy’s massive throat moved as he swallowed. “Wha—you know Tabatha?”

“Did you know she was only with you because of her father and the threats to her mother?”

Harper didn’t answer, jumping to the left as Jordan circled on the right. He jumped the other way as Jordan completed his move, and so on. They kept dancing around, except one was prowling and the other wanted to hide.