Page 191 of Tag

“Keep talking,” I prompted, voice calm. “What was that about my girl? My brothers? My family?”

He whimpered.

Now fully in his room, the fucking stench had everything I ate at Sanj's staging a rebellion. It was getting worse. I could handle blood without batting an eye. I wasn’t a fan of vomit. Hated feces. Filth like this made my skin crawl. The smell was fucking offensive. It rolled through the room like an invisible fog.

“What the fuck is that stench, Dennis?” Cade asked.

“This is the room of a failure,” Rook observed as he looked around.

Aside from what we’d already seen. A stack of pizza boxes was on his dresser, one of them oozing something congealed and yellow. A dirty sock that looked suspiciously solid clung to the corner of his gaming chair like it had fused there.

I could practically hear Sanj’s voice in my head if she came remotely near this place,burn it down, and salt the earth.

Xander pressed the blade a fraction deeper into Dennis’s throat. “Your room is a biohazard. It is unacceptable on every level. You’re a grown-ass man.”

His hazel eyes met mine, steady, waiting.

I gave a slight nod.

He withdrew, and the second Dennis sagged in relief, I grabbed the collar of his sleepy tee and yanked hard enough that he flipped. His chest hit the seat, the plush cushioning absorbing most of the impact, but his knees cracked against the hardwood with no mercy. A pained grunt escaped him.

Cade moved in fast, crouching beside him. Gloved fingers tangled in Dennis’s hair, jerking his head up like a puppet. “When you were down on your knees just like this, did you think that would be the end of it?”

I leaned in, close enough to smell his shallow, musty breath. “Answer him.”

“I, I made a mistake,” Dennis stuttered.

“You did, but luckily for you, we’re all for second chances.” I looked at my brother. “Help him up.”

Cade hauled him to his feet and made sure he didn’t go back down.

“You have got something to prove, right?” I questioned. “So, prove it.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, dazed.

“Fight back,” I told him. “You had a lot to say when you thought we weren’t listening. Time to back it up.”

“I can’t fight you.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Xander replied.

He blinked rapidly, trying not to cry, his body trembling.

“Come on,” I urged.

Rook gave a low snort behind me. Cade cracked his knuckles. Still, Dennis didn’t move. His hands barely lifted from his sides.

“Suit yourself.”

I moved in, catching him square in the ribs. The hit sent him stumbling into the side of the entertainment stand, wheezing as he dropped to his knees. I let him flounder before pulling him up and spinning his body toward Cade.

My brother’s fist drove into Dennis’s jaw twice. He cried out and dropped back to the floor, coughing up bloodied spit and a tooth.

“Please.” He began to crawl across his floor, openly sobbing.

Rook reached down and grabbed him by the back of his shirt, dragging him like a rag doll. Dennis tried to push him away. Rook swung, sending him careening into his beer cans. They toppled, one rolling across the floor, trailing something dark.

Dennis didn’t attempt to defend himself when Xander approached. He slapped Dennis across the face, flat-palmed, precise, and humiliating. We gave him time to get up, but he lay on the floor and sobbed.

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