Jonnie's poisonous touch.
"Where the fuck is it?" Blake screamed the words so hard I thought his head might explode.
Jonnie leered. "Maybe little sister just needs a bit of incentive to talk, boss. Want me to make her scream for you?"
He didn't need to try hard. The second he reached out for me, I let out a blood-curdling scream and kicked out. I'd be damned if I let Jonnie lay his hands on me without a fight.
To my palpable relief, the door burst open with a startling bang. I instantly recognized the tall, broad-shouldered frame filling the space and sucked in a sobbing breath.
Dylan was here. And these two bastards would finally pay.
"What the—?" Blake never got a chance to finish his exclamation as Dylan fired a shot into his knee without so much as a word of warning.
Blake howled and crumpled to the floor, landing halfway across Ben's lifeless, blood-soaked corpse.
Dylan crossed the room in three long strides to stand over Blake with his gun pointed at my brother's head.
"Brooke, are you okay? Did they hurt you?" His voice was cold and clipped, totally unemotional. But the thought was there. His priority was checking on me before finishing my brother off. That was kind of sweet, wasn't it?
I shook my head, biting back a wince of pain from where I'd been backhanded. "I'm fine," I assured him. "You got here just in time, though." Then my eyes fell to Ben's blank stare and the pool of blood coating the floor. "For me, anyway."
Fuck. Fuck. First Ruth, now Ben? Why did the good people always have to die? And would I ever not feel this raging torrent of guilt and anger over the part I’d played in it?
Beck had followed Dylan into the room, silent and lethal, and moved over to Jonnie. In one swift motion, he snapped the bastard's neck and dropped his body to the floor like a dirty raincoat.
Holy shit.
Dylan seemed less inclined to end things so quickly with Blake, though. He tossed his gun across my bed to Beck—who caught it with practiced ease—then leaned down to grab Blake by the front of his shirt.
"You sad, sorry son of a bitch," Dylan snarled at Blake, bringing his face right up close to his own and ignoring the moans of pain from my brother. "You're going to pay for what you've done to Brooke all these years. You can count on that."
His fist slammed into Blake's face with a sickening crunch, and more blood splattered the white sheets of my hospital bed. He struck again and again and again until I lost count of how many times he'd hit Blake. Certainly, Blake must have too; he seemed to be barely clinging to consciousness when Beck threw a pillow at Dylan's head and interrupted him.
"What?" Dylan barked, spinning to glare at his friend while my brother's blood dripped down his raised fist.
Beck cleared his throat, then gave me a pointed look. "Maybe take this elsewhere, D-man?"
Dylan seemed crazy confused, then followed Beck's line of sight over to me, huddled on the bed with my arms wrapped around my knees.
"Fuck." His curse was a mere breath.
"I've got your girl, D," Beck assured him. "Take your time."
Dylan ran his eyes over me again, his brow furrowed deeply. I wanted to say something, anything, to make him realize I wasn't terrified—hell, I wasn’t even mildly scared—of the violence inside him. But I couldn't get the words out. My whole body trembled as my mind flooded with memories of Blake laying into me with his fists after too many drinks—or not enough drinks. Or just because the sun was out
Yeah, I was scared as hell, but only of my own memories.
Dylan didn't know that, though. All he saw was a pathetic little girl cowering in fear.
He shook his head, disgusted, and dragged Blake out of the room like a sack of garbage. I knew beyond a doubt that I’d never see my older brother again, and I couldn't muster even a sliver of sadness over that fact.
"You okay, kid?" Beck asked in a low growl after Dylan was gone.
I peered around at the blood splattering every fucking visible surface and at the two dead bodies crimpled on the floor. "I'm not a kid," I told him in a hoarse voice. "And no, I'm not okay. I'm really fucking far from okay."
Dylan's best friend, one of the most powerful guys alive, just blinked at me in total confusion, and I let out a sigh.
“He