Page 108 of Pretty Broken Wings
I down my drink, then pour another, keeping my bat tucked up under my arm. I didn’t want to leave it in the living room, but now it feels weird to be holding it. It’s stupid, and I hate that Gage made us dress up. His mom is the only other one who participated, and now I feel duped.
I think about the way Gage smiled when I finally agreed and dug his elbow into my ribs. I smacked him for it, which only made him laugh. Then he wrapped his arms around me, scuffing his fist into my hair while I half-heartedly fought him off.
“He okay in there?”
I jump, face hot at the memory I was jolted out of. Rich stands in the kitchen, filling up a solo cup with some pink punch that I think is supposed to look like blood.
“I think so.” I stopped hearing the puking, as well as a door opening and their low voices, so that’s a good thing, I guess.
Rich’s gaze is either on my own drink or my chest. It drops down my body, then back up again. Immediately, he gives a throaty chuckle. “Kids. Can’t hold their alcohol.” His eyes are glassy, although he doesn’t slur. I recognize it well.
I just nod, looking back at the hallway. I need Gage to come back so we can go.
“Can I get you something else to drink?” Rich walks toward me. “We have some juice in here to mix.”
“No, I’m good.” I move the bat into my hand and point it at the floor.
Rich gives me another once-over with his glassy eyes. “So, both of them, huh?”
I frown.
“Kinky.” Rich winks. “Although, if you want my opinion, Axel’s an idiot. You’re better off with Gage.”
My mouth drops open, and for some reason, anger fills my chest like a balloon. These are his boys? How dare he talk about his own kids like this?
Before I can say something, Rich opens the fridge. In doing so, he bumps my arm with the drink and spills it all down my jersey.
I sputter, both from the cold and the accusation.
“Oh my god! I’m sorry!” Immediately, Rich grabs the towel from the oven, and then he’s there, pressing it to my chest. I feel his hand squeeze around my breast.
I see red. Before I can think twice, I take the baseball bat that’s pointed at the ground and jerk it upwards, right between Rich’s legs.
Rich crumples, dropping to the ground, and I yank the bat away, my hand shaking.
It’s at that moment that Axel appears, looking shaken.
I blink. Only, it’s not Axel; it’s Gage in his knight costume, but he’s put the glasses on, and he looks more pale than usual.
“Ready to go?” he asks, then frowns at Rich on the floor. There’s a look of disgust for a second, and then it’s gone.
“He tripped.” I find myself grabbing onto Gage’s arm. It’s just to direct him and has nothing to do with the way my hands are shaking or the slight spin the alcohol has given me. He has the glasses, so he doesn’t need me to lead him.
Still, I don’t let him go.
Gage doesn’t leave right away. Instead, he leans down to where Rich is struggling to stand. Then, in a lethal voice, he says, “Go to your lake house for the night.”
Rich tries to catch his breath, waving us off.
Gage waits for a second, then leans in. “Did you hear me, old man?”
Rich snaps his gaze up to Gage’s. “Who the fuck are you talking to?”
Taking a step closer, I realize again just how big Gage is. His voice is quiet and sends a shiver down my spine. “Go to your lake house, or I’ll rip your balls off and stuff them down your throat until you choke.”
Does Gage know what Rich just did? Did he see it?
For a second, Rich is still. His eyes widen, then he raises his hands. “Jesus, okay. No need to be like that.”
