“Oh, sorry.”
“Is there a reason you’re hiding out in the bathroom?” he asked, his voice rumbling low and gravelly.
“Um…just not feeling well. I had a rough night last night.”
Nodding, he stepped aside, letting me pass.
His hand snaked out around my upper arm, and then he dragged me back to him. His lips skimmed my ear as the warmth of his voice sent shivers over my body.
“Stay away from my brother,” he ground out, his voice unnaturally angry.
“I am.”
“Not enough. Someone like you shouldn’t be around him.”
I might have been misinterpreting the tone in his voice, but it was almost like he was telling me I wasn’t good enough for his brother. Which I found laughable, at best.
“Trust me, I have no interest in your brother.”
“Good. Because even if he brought you to the house, you wouldn’t be welcome.”
My jaw dropped at his words, but not because I was offended. It was like he was telling me he was better than me. I’d never gotten that impression around town before, that people thought I was somehow not good enough. But as I stared into those dark eyes, I wondered if I really knew anyone in the Callahan family.
And what they truly thought of the people in this town.
Jerking my arm out of his grasp, I stood tall, refusing to be cowed by this man. “Don’t worry. I have zero interest in anyone in your family.”
“Good.”
I turned on my heel and stormed away, but even as I walked down the hall, I could feel his eyes watching me, and there was nothing protective about it.
Slipping into my chair, I caught the disapproving look my mother shot my way as I scooped up a fork of mashed potatoes and shoved them in my mouth.
A low chuckle across the table had my gaze snapping up, meeting Austin’s cruel gaze.
“Bet you open that wide all the time,” he hissed. “How much more can you stuff in that mouth?”
I barely swallowed the dried-out potatoes before a roar shot through the air. I screamed as Wyatt leapt over the table, tackling his brother to the ground. Dishes went flying. Glasses shattered on the floor.
Scrambling back from the table, I shoved myself against a wall as my parents joined me, staring in shock as Austin and Wyatt pummeled the hell out of each other. Clay sat at the table, laughing and clapping his hands, occasionally popping another olive in his mouth.
“Boys!” John shouted, but his words fell on deaf ears as Austin picked up a chair and swung hard, smashing it into mysliding door. I gasped in horror as Wyatt ducked his head and charged his brother. My hand flew to my mouth just as they went crashing through the door and into the night.
14
SAM
I fucking hated holidays.
When I was a kid, it was different. It was just our family. Mom would make a turkey, and everything was perfect. We’d play outside until we were called in for dinner, and then we’d dive into an endless home-cooked meal.
But since my mother died, we’d been a mishmash of haphazard meals that you could barely call home-cooked. We tried, but never truly gained back what we had before Mom died.
And then I started fighting, and my whole world changed. I stopped going home for the holidays. I hardly ever saw my family, and when I did, it was for a short period of time.
Now…
I sighed as I slid my fingers through my hair, watching as the thirty-plus people gathered at the Parker family house. It was chaotic and loud, and too many people were asking about my life, which I really fucking hated.
