He held the dart while his head swiveled around to look at whatever she had told him. He did a double take before he let the dart fly and took off toward Violet and Mitch.
Jane met up with Penny, who was watching the entire thing unfold, and our eyes met. She smiled at me, gave a little finger wave, and then went back to watching Mick push through the crowd.
“Shit, Brando,” I said, jumping up.
We met Violet and Mitch at the same time as Mick. He snatched her arm, tearing her from wherever the hell she was. She blinked at him before her golden cheeks turned red.
Mitch put his hands up. “What’s your problem, Lil’ Brother?”
“What’s my fucking problem?” Mick’s voice boomed, causing the dancers around him to further slow their pace. His breath was laced with straight whiskey. “I don’t like the way you were dancing with my wife, that’s my fucking problem.”
Some of the partners kept on, though, bumping into the two brothers as they twirled and held close. No, not much had changed. This crowd was as seasoned as ever.
Mitch backed up a step or two. “We were just dancing.”
Mick pushed him. “Too close.”
Mitch stumbled back, hands back up. “I had too much to drink. That’s all.”
“That’s always your excuse! You’re always too loaded to know what the fuck is going on. Well, it’s time for you grow up and get your shit together.”
“Yeah,” Mitch said. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“Damn straight,” Mick said, turning to Violet.
He went to snatch her arm, and she pulled away. He glared at her for a moment before he tried again. This time he caught her arm, and she resisted. She had been drinking too. I could smell the sweet aroma of rum on her breath. Rum made Violet testy.
“Whoa, whoa,” Mitch said, coming in close. “Let her go. It wasn’t her fault. It was mine. She was just dancing. Let her go, Mick.”
Brando glanced at Mitch, and I couldn’t exactly understand the look. If anything, I thought it said in basic termsyou have some nerve.
“Let her go?” Mick seethed. “Did you let her go when you were high and pulled her back? When you caused my son to have a bloody nose? Yeah, Peter told me. You wanted to take him fishing with Penny. Why? So you could screw her while he fished by himself? I never talked to you about that—but if I ever find out that you put a hand on my wife again, by accident or not, I’ll hurt you. If Brando hadn’t kicked your ass, I’d do it for you. Right now.”
When did this happen?I looked at Brando but he refused to look away from the two brothers, who were chest-to-chest and nose-to-nose.
The tension grew thicker and thicker, their eyes hotter and hotter. Not being able to stand it anymore, the way they were looking at each other, the way Violet looked at them, I took Mitch’s hand in mine, asking him to dance. His eyes briefly met mine before he nodded.
Brando tried to stop me, but I motioned to Violet and Mick, who had taken a corner and were shouting at each other, hands and arms flailing in anger. Mick kicked the wall before he turned, going back in for another round.
Mitch put his arms around me and we swayed back and forth.
“Thank you,” he said into my ear.
I pushed some to get him to loosen his hold. Looking up into his eyes, all I found was pain and regret and a dull gaze from too much alcohol and whatever else he had taken. He was a lost soul, all right, the perfect, twentieth-century Peter Pan.
“You see it too?” He grinned at me. “The fuck up?”
“No.” I shook my head, looking away from him. His eyes were intense. His eyes were nothing compared to Brando’s, but the moment was starting to feel uncomfortable—too intimate from his side for my comfort level. “You’re just misguided.”
“How so?” He asked, pulling me closer, moving us deeper into the crowd.
“Well,” I sighed, “I think you need to let go.”
“You do, huh? Keep talking.”
“Penny—” I felt like swallowing my own tongue.
“Penny?” He hummed in my ear. “Mmhm. What about her?”
