Page 6 of Wrangled
“Seriously, I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Now stop talking before I lose my shit.”
I let my mouth snap closed, not sure I want to know what that looks like. As we get closer, I realize someone is leaning against the passenger side door.
Andy.Fuck.
He must hear us approach because he turns toward us. Seeing me, he grimaces before stalking forward. “What the fuck do you want, freak?” Before I can answer, he drags a finger down my tender cheek. “I like what you did with your face. It’s a definite improvement.”
Austin’s fist comes out of nowhere, surprising us both. Before I can make a sound, Andy is sprawled on the ground, blood streaming from his nose.
“Touch her again, and I’ll rip your fingers off and feed them to you.”
“What the fuck, Austin? You hit me. What, you fucking the freak now?”
Austin squats, fisting the front of Andy’s shirt, lifting him half off the ground, and holding him an inch from his face. “It’s like you want me to make you bleed. Tell me, Andy, why the fuck do I keep making excuses for you? You’re nothing more than a fucking shit stain.”
“You promised Mom you’d take care of me,” he whines, which is every bit as unattractive as it sounds.
“And that’s the only reason I haven’t buried you already. Right now, I’m thinking some promises were made to be broken.”
I look between the two of them and decide I don’t want to get caught in the middle of this. All it will do is add fuel to the fire and give Andy one more reason to wail on me. Not that he needs a reason to treat me like I’m a human punching bag. I’m just one of the lucky ones.
As if sensing where my thoughts have gone, I’ve no sooner taken a step back than Austin is standing up in front of me. “Get in the car.”
“Look I can just?—”
He places a finger over my lips, making me gasp in surprise. “Get in the fucking car,” he growls softly.
Okay, getting in the car.
His voice might be filled with menace, but I don’t feel any fear, which is as confusing as everything else right now. Again, I have to question whether I hit my head harder than I realized. All of this is just weird, which, coming from me, is saying something.
I leave them to it and get in the car, my body protesting at the move. I watch Austin through the window as he ducks back down and deals with Andy again. I can’t hear what’s being said, and I’m not sure I want to. Instead, I slip my seatbelt on and rest my head against the cool glass.
I jolt when the door opens, turning slightly to watch as Austin climbs in. He closes the door and looks me over before strapping himself in.
“You good?”
I shrug, not really sure how to answer that. As he starts the engine, I frown. “What about Andy?”
“You really want him in the car with us?”
“Well, no, but he’s your brother.”
“And his legs work just fine. I can’t guarantee I won’t crack his skull if I don’t get a fucking minute to calm down.”
“Okay,” I whisper, unsure how to reply to that.
“Where am I taking you?”
Even though I think the library is the better option, I know I need to eat something. “The diner?”
He looks at me and frowns. “I’m not sure your head is going to cope with the noise level there.”
“I’m not going home yet. I can’t.”
He grits his teeth as he starts the engine and pulls away from the curb. I lean back and close my eyes, letting the hum of the engine soothe me. Sleep is something I struggle with the most. Letting my guard down in the house when my father’s always there, ready to take advantage, isn’t an option. I’ve become accustomed to sleeping lightly and maybe only grabbing a few hours here and there.
