I give him a lopsided smirk. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”
He returns the smirk, but there’s a tinge of pity there. “Yeah, figured you’d deal with heartbreak in the most dramatic way possible.”
My smirk shifts into a glare. “Maybe one day you’ll be in this position. You won’t be smirking then.”
“Doubtful,” Dalton snorts. “It’s why you hold everyone at arm’s length. You can’t be hurt if you don’t let anyone close. Maybe you’ll know better in the future.”
My fingers tighten around the ball, denting the shape. It won’t be an issue in the future because there won’t be anyone else.
For me, it’s Ansel or no one.
Despite what’s happened, I refuse to accept that it’s over. He just needs some space. I can give him that.
So long as I stay in this panic room while it’s locked from the other side.
“Come on,” Matthias sighs. “Just come upstairs.”
I don’t stand up. Not yet. I let Harley draw nearer. As the youngest of us, he’s the least experienced.
Right now, I’m about to use that lack of experience as a teaching moment. I’m nice like that.
When he’s within reach, my hand snaps out and snatches his ankle. Harley crashes to the floor as I haul it from under him. I’m at his throat in an instant, my hand lightly squeezing his windpipe. “Never sneak up on your opponent unless you’re certain you can overpower them, baby bro. I thought I trained you better than that.”
I barely get the last word out as a hand crushes my own throat. “And never turn your back on your opponent, Cade. IknowI trained you better than that.”
Samson’s voice is as rough as the calluses abrading my skin. I throw back an elbow, but another hand catches it.
I’m yanked to my feet, kicking and thrashing all the way. Samson doesn’t let up his grip on my throat, pinning me against his chest while Dalton and Matthias have my arms.
Fuckers.They’ll all pay for this.
“Cade.” Harley takes a couple of kicks as he pushes close to me. Idiot. What the fuck is he thinking, approaching a vicious, angry animal like this?
But suddenly he grabs my face in his hands, wincing as I catch his knee. “Cade, stop. It’s Ansel. We’re meeting about Ansel.”
The fight drains away in an instant. “What?”
“It’s about Ansel,” Harley repeats steadily. “We thought you’d want to be there.”
“Why didn’t you say that in the first place?” I explode, shaking off my brothers. They must know where I’m going to go because they release me. I turn to glare at them. “Are you fucking crazy? You had to know I’d listen if you told me what it’s about.”
Samson smirks while Dalton winks at me. “Well, where would be the fun in that?”
I’m already striding for the door. “Cunts. The lot of you. I’ll get you back for this later. Except you, Harley. You’re in my good books.”
“As I should be,” Harley responds sassily, appearing beside me. “I’m the best of us.”
A small bickering match breaks out among the rest of them, but I tune it out. I’m too busy wondering what’s wrong with Ansel. Has he turned up? Is he in danger?
I take the stairs two at a time, arriving in Wylder’s office a good thirty seconds before the others. “What’s wrong with Ansel?”
An arch appears in one of Wylder’s brows. “Nothing, as far as I’m aware.”
“Harley said this meeting is about him.”
My other brothers file in behind me, taking seats around the table.
“It is about him,” Wylder says heavily. “But not because he’s in trouble. Not yet, anyway.”
