Page 116 of I Knew You
Whit turned suddenly and knocked his arm straight into my torso. Although I tried to catch myself, I fell and landed backward on the dirt. The impact made my teeth chatter. Pain radiated down through my legs.
Bram heard the moan that came from deep in my throat and saw me hit the ground.
A switch flipped at the sight of me, and he unleashed his fury on Whit. He punched Whit once, then twice, and fought his way to his feet. At the first opening, he dodged, leaving Whit tumbling to the ground.
Bram gathered me in his arms and set me up.
“Can you stand?” he asked frantically, his hands coming to either side of my head to hold it steady. I nodded.
“I think so. It hurts, though. I’m going to need help getting up.”
Mistaking my meaning, he lifted me off the ground and into his arms, running off pure adrenaline.
Whit stood back, wiping blood from his nose, huffing for breath.
“Julianna. Oh my God, I’m so sorry?—”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Bram boomed at his best friend. Whit didn’t respond but hurried ahead to open the screen door for us to get into the house.
Bram gently deposited me on the couch, and I began trying to move my arms and legs. Everything was working still, but the shooting pain through my left leg was excruciating.
“Sweets,” Bram soothed, running a hand down my head, “tell me what you need.” His face was smeared with blood and swelling and puffing up before my very eyes.
Whit had attacked him because of me.
I let out a loud breath. “Heating pad. Water. Half a muscle relaxer. That should do it. But please, take care of yourself first.”
“I will clean up after you have what you need.” He kissed me on the top of the head as he got up. Whit stood by the fireplace, watching us with his jaw set in a hard line. I couldn’t think of one time when Bram and I had touched each other in front of him.
“I’ll be right back,” Bram told me in his soothing, low tone. He turned and snapped at Whit, “Do not touch her. Your problem is with me and me alone, got it?”
“I’m not going to hurt my sister, idiot.”
“Funny, because you just did.”
Whit’s face went pale, but instead of protesting, he nodded without further comment.
Bram hurried up the stairs to get my things, and I looked at Whit and tried for a moment to compartmentalize my physical and emotional pain.
“Feel better?” I asked sarcastically.
“I did, until I hurtyou,” he replied, unable to look me in the face. “I happened upon the fact that Bram was the one who wrecked the truck the night Grams died. The asshole never told me that, and neither did you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Happenedupon it? How do you happen upon something like that? And I’m still not sure why you thought squealing your tires and beating your best friend to a pulp was going to make a fifteen-year-old decision avenged.”
He sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. I lost it.” He ran his hand through his hair. It was a gesture that mirrored Bram’s when he was nervous, and the irony of their shared nervous twitcheswasn’t lost on me. “I’m so sorry—” He stepped toward me as Bram rounded the corner.
“One more step, and I will have you on your ass so fast…”
“Bram, no,” I scolded. All of us stopped as another vehicle was making its way up the drive.
“Jesus, what now?” Bram muttered, but I knew it was Mel. After a few uncomfortable, quiet moments, she appeared through the front door, her expression somber and sheepish.
“Hey, guys,” she said cooly, as if she hadn’t just come barreling into the room. “What’s going on in here?”
I tried to imagine how we looked: Whit bleeding from his nose, Bram’s dirty and bloody face swelling, and me sprawled out on the couch, barely moving.
“You missed the fight of a century,” I quipped.
