The distance between us disappears in two strides. My hand closes around his wrist and wrenches upward just as the gun goes off. The shot buries itself in the ceiling, raining plaster down on us like snow. I twist his arm until something pops, and his scream is the most satisfying sound I've heard in years.
The gun clatters to the floor. I kick it away without looking.
Then I destroy him.
My fist connects with his face. Once. Twice. Three times. His nose cracks under my knuckles. Blood sprays across my shirt, across the scattered papers, across the polished conference table. I hit him again and his lip splits. Again and bone cracks along his jaw.
He crumples to the floor, moaning, and I follow him down.
My knee pins his chest. My hand grips his throat and I make sure our eyes lock when I tell him, "I warned you, brother. I warned you." My words come out barely human. A primal growl that doesn't care about blood or brotherhood or the promises I made to our mother. "Ending you will kill me inside, but you need to know I pick her over you every day of the week. You will address her with respect. Period. See her walking down the street, youbetter make sure she never sees you. Disappear from her life and if you ever need me for anything again, don’t."
"I'm sorry," he gasps, blood bubbling from his ruined nose. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean?—"
"You didn't mean what? To threaten a woman who wanted nothing but to earn your trust and give it back in kind? You didn’t what? Want to prove you're exactly the piece of shit I always knew you were, but gave you ample opportunity to grow?"
I squeeze harder and watch his eyes bulge. His windpipe flexes beneath my grip.
Our mother asked me to protect him. Begged me, in those final weeks when the cancer was eating her alive, to take care of my baby brother. To keep him safe. To guide him toward something better than the darkness that consumed our father.
I failed her. Or maybe Jonah failed himself. Either way, the boy I raised is gone, replaced by this bitter, broken man who would murder an innocent woman to punish me for crimes I never committed.
"Drake."
Katriana's voice cuts through the red haze.
"Drake, stop. Please. He's not worth it. Don’t do this. You can never come back from that line if you cross it."
I look up. She's moved away from the door, closer to me, her face pale but composed. Her eyes hold fear, and it drives a cold-blooded need to squeeze harder until Jonah pays for putting that fear in her eyes.
"I'm okay," she says softly. "You stopped him in time. I'm okay."
Her soft voice forces the rage to recede. It pulls back like a slow-moving tide, leaving me shaking with the effort of containing it. I release Jonah's throat and rise to my feet, my chest heaving, and my knuckles screaming with pain.
Blood drips from my split lip. My ribs ache where his elbow caught me somewhere in the chaos. I don't remember the impact.
Kon appears at the door, his expression grim, his hand resting on the weapon at his hip. Behind him, Luca hovers with the same coiled readiness, waiting for my command.
"Get him out of here." My voice is steadier now, but only just. "He's no longer welcome at Redthorne. Make sure security revokes his access."
"Where do you want him?" Kon asks.
I look down at my brother. He's curled on the floor, blood pooling beneath his ruined face, his body shaking with sobs or pain or both. The boy I raised. The man who would have killed the woman I love.
"Dump him somewhere he'll be found. Somewhere that will remind him of exactly how far he's fallen." I crouch down, forcing Jonah to meet my eyes. "Listen to me very carefully. You are no longer my brother. You have no family. No name. No protection. If I see you again, if you come near Katriana again, I won't stop. Do you understand? All you had to do was act civil. You shouldn’t have pulled the gun on her."
He nods, a jerky movement that sends fresh blood dripping from his chin.
"Get out of my sight."
Kon and Luca haul him to his feet and drag him toward the door. Just before they disappear into the hallway, Jonah turns his head and looks at me one last time.
The hatred in his eyes is absolute. Unforgivable. Final.
Good. Now we understand each other.
The door closes behind them, and I'm alone with Katriana.
She's trembling. The adrenaline fading, the reality of what just happened crashing over her in waves. I cross the room in three strides and pull her into my arms.
