“You’re clearly fine. No injuries. Did you finally have a mental breakdown? Is that it? All your stupid eccentricities finally get to you, and you run away in the middle of a gunfight? Is that it?”
There’s no way they shouldn’t hear me coming, and yet, neither seems to notice me coming upon them. The man saying grossthings to Oxley has his back to me, so he doesn’t see me approach. He’s so focused on being a dick that he doesn’t hear me either.
I can’t see Oxley clearly. The man is blocking my view. I’m able to get to them without either realizing I’m there.
Without thinking, I lean my weight on my uninjured leg and use my crutch like a weapon. I haul it back and whack it against the man, hitting him in the shoulder. He curses, grips his shoulder, and turns just as I bring it down again. He dodges in time for my crutch to miss his head, but it doesn’t miss him entirely. I hit his other shoulder hard enough that I hear thethwack.
“What the fuck?” he shouts and comes at me. I hit him again, making him shout a curse, but he catches my crutch and yanks it from my grip.
Oxley is between us in an instant. He shoves the man back violently, sending him stumbling backwards. He trips over a hassock and lands on the ground.
Oxley stands in front of me, his hands clenched. The man stares up at us with shock. It’s not difficult to figure out that whoever this guy is, he’s not used to Oxley standing up to him.
Silence settles around the apartment as the man on the floor stares at us. I’m not sure if it’s just seconds or minutes, but it’s a while before this man gets to his feet. He takes several steps toward us, anger flashing in his eyes again.
“I have another crutch,” I warn, adjusting my weight so I can use it as a weapon.
The man meets my eye. I’m slightly surprised when he stops coming toward me. I hold his stare, daring him to come toward us. His eyes leave mine and settle on Oxley’s as he shoves his hands into his pockets.
“You’re babysitting an invalid?” the man muses.
I look around. Look for anything at all to throw at this guy.
Oxley doesn’t answer.
“This is seriously what has you shirking your duties? You argued for this city, bitch. Do your job. I’m so fucking tired of you always being babied. I’m so?—”
Snarling, I slip around Oxley and use my second crutch on the nasty man. This time, I hit him upside the head. I’m not sure how he doesn’t see me coming. I’m not sure how Oxley doesn’t see me move past him.
It’s not until the man is spewing loudly with threats that Oxley pulls me back, gripping me to him in a bear hug.
“Stay out of this,” Oxley says quietly.
“No,” I insist. “I don’t know who this dick is, but I’m not letting him talk to you like that. The only one having a mental breakdown is him since his brain has short-circuited, and he only has the ability to insult and name-call like a third grader.”
This makes the man’s eyes flash. He’s bleeding. I hit him good that time.
Angrily, he comes at me again, but this time, I don’t get a chance to act. Oxley suddenly has a knife in his hand and catches the man with it under his chin. His eyes widen, and he freezes. The room holds its breath.
“You think you can kill your own brother and get away with it?” the man hisses. “You think you’re so special that Jalon will look the other way?”
“I’ll bury your body. It’ll be ages before someone figures out you’re actually missing, Kairo. You’re not smart enough to tell someone where you’ve gone or why. I’m sure your team doesn’teven know you left Chicago. Jalon will be looking for you in the wrong city for ages. It’ll probably be months before they even think to look. Everyone will just assume you’re having another tantrum and have gone off grid,” Oxley says, his voice even. Uninterested. Unfeeling.
I swallow, looking between the two of them.
This is the asshole brother. Kairo Van Doren. He doesn’t speak. I don’t know Oxley well enough to know whether that’s the truth. I don’t even know if he’s being serious.
Clearly, Kairo doesn’t know either. Not with as still as he’s standing, the serrated knife at his neck. I think I see a hint of blood. He stares at Oxley, very obviously debating the truth of his words as well. I’m surprised and maybe a little scared when Kairo decides that his assertion is entirely possible.
Oxley drops his arm, but the blade is still in his hand. “Leave my city and don’t come back,” he says. “Stay away from me. Stay away from my boyfriend. I don’t care where you go, but get out of Anaheim.”
No one moves for several heartbeats. Kairo’s eyes meet mine for just a second, and then he turns for the door. Oxley shifts us where we’re standing, never letting Kairo out of our sight. The door opens, and Kairo leaves.
Once we’re alone in the apartment, Oxley sets the knife on the shelf over the coat hooks where it virtually disappears, and then turns to look at me. His eyebrows are knit together as he looks me over.
“Why are you out of bed?”
“Why don’t you stand up for yourself?” I counter.
