Page 65 of Make My Heart Malt

I nod. He’s right. If this didn’t happen here, it would be all over social media and blasted to the tabloids by now. I don’t need the headlines to read “Star Warbler Player Punches Brother in a Fit of Rage.”

“Also, Dessa’s pretty good at handling her own.” He raises an eyebrow.

I know she is. She always was, but I have the urge to protect her, and it’s not going to go away anytime soon. Since Dessa’s with her parents, I’m not going to ruin her night tonight. I’ll tell her tomorrow, since Tony won’t, and she deserves to know even though it would be better coming from the piece of shit’s mouth instead.

TWENTY-EIGHT

THE AFTERMATH

Dessa

I throw my coat over my shoulders and grab my purse to head out the door for work, but a knock startles me. Peeking through the peephole, I see Tony’s standing on the other side. My brows draw together, unsure why he’s at my door, so I twist the knob and pull it open.

“Hey, what are you doing here? I was just about to head out to work.”

“I tried calling you, but you didn't answer.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“Sorry. I forgot my phone at my parents’ last night.” Something about his posture and expression is off, but I'm unsure what it could be. Maybe he’s having issues with Georgia?

“Do you have a few minutes?”

I check the clock on the wall. “Yeah, I could spare a few. What’s up?” I open the door wider and motion for him to come in. Once he’s inside, I close the door behind him.

“I need to talk to you.” His tone is serious.

I huff out a laugh. “That doesn’t sound ominous or anything.”

He turns around and pulls off his sunglasses. A dark shade of purple and blue covers the skin under his left eye.

“Oh my god! What happened?” Shock and disbelief flood my body as my hand flies over my mouth.

With a heavy sigh, he releases a long, weary breath. “Garrett.”

My eyebrows knit in confusion as my hand drops to my side. “What does Garrett have to do with your black eye?”

“He’s the reason I have it.” He points to his face.

“What are you talking about? What did he do?”

“Last night, I was at Porter’s with a friend. We were talking, minding our own business, and Garrett was there. He overheard us talking about how great it was seeing you at the wedding. How you and Georgia have become friends. He got toe to toe with me, jealous that you and me are friends again and have been hanging out. He told me to stay away from you. When I told him he can’t pick my friends or yours, he punched me.”

My jaw drops to the floor. He wasn’t even alone for six hours, and something like this happens? I can’t imagine Garrett would do this. He and his brother have a rocky relationship, but he wouldn’t punch him. Would he? While we’ve rekindled our friendship, a person can change a lot in ten years. I’m certainly not the same person as I was then, so I can’t imagine Garrett is too. But getting jealous and punching someone? Especially his brother?

“I… I just want to let you know he’s unpredictable. Borderline dangerous. If he’ll punch his own brother, who knows if he’d do anything to you?” He rests his hand on my bicep. “Now I have to go on my honeymoon with a black eye. At least it was after the wedding.” He huffs out a laugh.

Garrett would never hurt me, but I never expected him to punch Tony either. For him to be jealous is absurd. He has no reason to be jealous. Yes, he can be a little protective. That’s always been his personality. Would protective morph into possessive? At the wedding, when I was talking to Tony and Georgia, Garrett was always close by, watching. This seems so out of character for him.

“I’m so sorry, Tony.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“This happened because of me, so I kind of feel like it is.”

He pulls me in for a hug, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. My cheek rests against his chest. “I wanted to let you know. But it might be better to steer clear of him. Take anything he has to say with a grain of salt. He’ll do whatever he can to pry apart our friendship.”

I nod my head. “Thanks for telling me. Again, I’m sorry.”

“I better get going.” With one hand, he sets his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. “We’ll chat later though.”

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