Ethan’s at the bar top, smirking, watching them.
Every so often, there’s a sharp crack when knuckles come into contact with bone, but neither man gives up. They’re evenly matched. These idiots could be at it all day.
Even better. I won’t have to come up with things to think about instead of Ryan. Not that I was doing a great job. My uncle was right. I obsess until something destroys me.
Maybe I would let Ryan destroy me.
“Keep your filthy fucking hands off him,” Tyler says.
Another crack.
“You keepyourfilthy fucking hands off him,” Rocky says.
They finally roll away from the stairs, giving me enough room to get by and make my way over to their smug trophy. I sit down beside him. “You’re going to let them fight over you like that?”
“Couldn’t stop them if I wanted to, and I don’t want to, for the record. Whichever one wins gets to take me out tonight. I don’t fuck losers.” He sips his beer.
“Which one do you hope wins?” His indifference fascinates me. The way he’ll just date whoever wins. How does that work? I only want one person. It’s not even because I’m inherently monogamous—I couldn’t give a fuck about that kind of shit. I don’t have the kind of moral code others probably wish I had, especially for relationships. I just don’t have any interest beyond Ryan. I can’t comprehend it. It’s like asking me what I’d do if gravity stopped working.
I know exactly what I do if someone touched Ryan, though. After I crushed every bone in their hand with a hammer, I’d peel off their skin. Let them bleed out slowly. Screaming.
It’s only fair.
Ethan shrugs. “Meh. Don’t have a preference. I’m getting bored with both of them. This is the first interesting thing they’ve done in some time. At least they brought you out of your hole. Have you forgiven Ryan yet?”
His gaze lands on Tyler, though. Is he sure he isn’t sweet on him, even a little? Maybe Ethan doesn’t know, or maybe he’s not willing to admit it.
“I told you, it’s not about forgiving Ryan. I wasn’t mad at him.” Okay, I might have been mad for a hot minute, but it all turned into a cesspool of treachery in my mind, until I couldn’t separate reality from my brain’s personal blend of horror fiction.
I kicked him out of my mind sanctuary.
It was all a stark reminder of the rules I’ve made for myself. Chaos breeds chaos, and control keeps chaos at bay. But then he demanded that we marry immediately. That went a long way to calming me down, but it didn’t fix what was broken. Nothing can. It’s not Ryan’s fault or mine; it just is.
If I keep enough distance, I can keep him. Problem solved.
There’s a clatter, broom handles hitting the concrete flooring. Watersplooshes.
Ethan sips from his highball glass. “He might be mad at you, though, and if you don’t do something about it, marriage is going to suck for you.”
“Our marriage is whatever I want it to be. Ryan will do what he’s told.”
Utter silence punctuates my words. No more brooms falling or bones cracking against bone. We exchange a look and turn our gazes to where the fight was taking place. Rocky and Tyler are down for the count. Two unmoving mountains. We saunter over, each of us crouching to take a pulse.
“Breathing,” Ethan says.
“Him too.”
“I’ll have Jane look after them. Looks like I don’t have a date tonight.” Ethan gently slaps Tyler’s cheek. “You giant fucking puppy.”
“Disappointed?”
He shrugs. “Meh.”
There it is again. That beautiful indifference. I’d give anything to be in his position. “Does one of them fuck better?”
“Tyler,” he says without hesitation.
“I knew you liked him better.”
