“What did you just say?”
Dom shook his head, realization hitting him as it hit me. He smirked and raised an eyebrow. “She’sseventeen, you fuckwit.”
Idragged ahand down my beard. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”
“You didn’tknow?”
Iscowled harder. “You think Iwould have gone near her jailbait ass if Ihad?”
Dom scowled harder.
“Cut me some slack, brother.”
“Not afucking chance,” he replied. “You need to stay away from her, Gauge.”
Iswallowed and looked back at her. She was drinking abeer by the fire, her gaze watching me over the flames. “I’mnot sure Ican.”
“She’sjailbait, she’smy sister, and she’sfucking crazy! How many more reasons do you need to stay away from her?” Dom argued, his temper flaring.
Ilooked away from her again. “It’snot as easy as that.”
Iturned and started to walk away, needing space from Dom and from Jolie, but Dom followed me.
“Make it that easy!” he yelled as Iheaded back toward my bike. Isuddenly wasn’tfeeling very hungry or very sociable.
Iignored him, not sure how to make him understand that forgetting Jolie was like forgetting how to breathe; she was aneed, an impulse. Ineeded her to survive.
“Listen to me!” Dom yelled behind me, his hand landing heavily on my shoulder.
Iturned to him, anger flaring in my face. “You don’tget it. You’ve never felt like this.”
He scoffed. “Haven’tI?”
Ishook my head. “No, because if you had you’dknow that Ican’twalk away from her! No matter how wrong it is, and Jesus, she’sseventeen, and I’mdouble her age and then some, but it’stoo late, brother.”
Dom pushed me and Istaggered back astep. “I’mnot your brother—not if you continue this.”
His words hurt, digging in deep like ablade to my chest. But it didn’tmatter. It was already too late.
My teeth clenched as Isquared up to him. “That how it is?”
He nodded, shoving me in the chest. “That’show it is; me or her.”
If he’dbeen any other man he’dhave already been knocked out on the ground, but it was Dom and Ihad wronged him. He deserved his sixty seconds. Iknew Iowed him that much at least.
Shooter and Casa had heard the commotion and they came from the backyard, stepping between us both.
“What’sgoing on? This over Jolie still?” Shooter asked.
“Obviously,” Igritted.
“Careful,” Shooter warned. “You know you have to let her go, Gauge, right?”
Itore my gaze from Dom to look at Shooter in disbelief. “Ican’t.”
“You have to,” he insisted.
“Ifuckin’ can’t!” Iyelled. “Ihate it and Ihate her, but Ican’tlet her go, Prez.”
