Page 113 of Freefall

“Hey, kid.” His voice is rough, and there’s a faint scent of stale alcohol coming from him.

“Are you here for lunch?” she asks.

Jace opens his mouth to say something, but Harper cuts him off.

“Daisy.” Her tone is firmer than I’ve ever heard it. “Go to Grandma’s. I’m not going to ask again.”

“Fine.” Daisy pouts, but she finally does what she’s told and heads up the walkway to the main house.

“What?” Jace mutters as he stands. “I can’t even spend some time with my niece?”

Harper’s eyes turn a shade darker, the gold flecks dissolving into a sea of forest green. Something inside her snaps, and she bends down, shoving Jace so hard that his head smacks against the side of the house. “Fuck you.”

She continues to hit him, open palms slamming against his chest, but each blow is weaker than the last. It’s more out of desperation than anger.

I let her take her frustration out on him for a few seconds before I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her back.

“Jesus, Harp. What the—” Jace starts.

“No, seriously fuck you.” Her voice breaks. “You think you can come here, steal money from me, and then disappear for seven fucking days. Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

Jace takes a step, swaying a little before rubbing the back of his head. “Harp, listen…”

“No,” she snaps. “I don't want excuses. You want to keep ruining your life? Fine. But don’t show up to my house high in front of my daughter.”

Jace laughs, but it's slow and heavy like he’s underwater.

“What about you?” he slurs, glaring past her at me. “Bringing home a different guy every week. I didn’t know my sister was such a slut.”

Every single shred of self-control I’ve been clinging to since we got out of my car suddenly disappears.

I see red.

No, not red—fucking black.

Harper’s eyes widen as I gently move her behind me before rearing back and driving my fist straight into Jace’s jaw.

“Fuck,” he roars, falling onto his ass and leaning over to spit blood onto the gravel.

“I don’t care who you are or what you’re on. If you talk to the mother of my child like that again, I’ll rip your fucking throat out.”

Every ounce of color drains from his face. Blood dribbles from his lip, dripping onto his already stained sweatshirt. He stares down at it before looking back at me, the meaning of my words taking longer to sink in than if he were sober. “You…” He blinks. “It’s you?”

“Jace, no,” Harper calls, but he’s on his feet before she can stop him.

He's about an inch shorter than me, but he has at least twenty pounds of muscle on me. He’s also wasted, so when he stands up and charges me, I easily catch him with my forearm across his throat. He staggers backward, gagging before crashing to the ground again.

“Nathan. Stop!”

I take one step toward him and freeze. It’s not that she used my full name or even that she yelled. It’s the edge of panic in her voice. The same crack when she said those words all those years ago.

You’re scaring me.

Instead of kicking him, I reach down and hold out my hand. To my surprise, he grabs it, and I haul him to his feet.

But the moment he’s standing, he’s back in my face. “You knocked up my sister and left her? You fucking asshole.”

We’re standing chest to chest now, close enough that I can smell the blood on his breath.