"Fine. Makes you an idiot," I say.
"Spoken from the prize idiot herself," he retorts.
"Don't talk to your sister like that," Wyatt warns darkly.
Jagger turns his angry gaze on him again. "Don't tell me what I can say to my sister."
"I can and I will," Wyatt states.
Jagger steps forward. "Oh yeah?"
Wyatt moves me out of the way. "Yeah. Now, I think we have some things to say, and it's best if Willow isn't here. Do we agree?"
Jagger glances at me, then turns his scowl back on Wyatt. "Agreed."
"I'm not leaving so you two can beat the crap out of each other," I insist.
Jagger crosses his arms. "I already beat him up."
"Because he didn't try to fight back," I point out.
Jagger scoffs. "I'll let Wyatt try again if he wants."
"Stop it!" I say loudly, but Jagger isn't listening.
"Let him show me what he's got," my brother taunts.
"Jagger!"
"I'll be right back," Wyatt says to my brother, then slides his arm around my waist and moves me toward the door. "I need you to take the truck to the house."
"Wyatt—"
"Willow, I'm not going to ask again," he says forcefully.
I freeze, taken aback by his tone.
He releases a deep breath and tries again, softer this time. "Please. Go to the house. I promise I'll call you when we're done talking."
"You're only going to talk?" I ask, panic rushing through my veins.
"That's my plan. What about you?" he asks Jagger, looking at him.
My brother just stands there, silently stewing in anger.
"Jagger!" I exclaim.
"Yeah. We're just talking," he answers gruffly.
I stare at him.
"Go on. Get out of here," he adds.
"Promise me there won't be any fighting," I say.
He begrudgingly agrees. "No fighting. Now, leave."
I glare at him and turn back to Wyatt. My voice catches. "P-please don't fight."
