Page 58 of Guitars and Cages

Cole pulled his fist back, and I knew what he was gonna do, and all I could do was hook the arm with the cast around his arm and lock my good arm across his neck, pulling him back. Stupid. I had a split second to think about exactly how stupid a move it was when he reached back, caught me around the head, and flung me off him. I crash-landed beside one of the pool tables and stars erupted behind my eyes.

“You fuckin’ bastard!” I heard Alex say, but if he was yelling I couldn’t tell over the ringing in my ears. I wanted to tell him to get out of there, but I couldn’t make myself say a word. I heard the sound of flesh meeting flesh and a bottle shattering, and then laughter that I recognized as Cole’s.

“You still hit like a fuckin’ girl,” he was saying to Alex, and I heard another punch land, louder, harder, and then somehow I was back on my feet and staggering over there, putting myself between Cole and Alex, who was picking himself up off the floor.

“Settle down, Cole,” I told him, putting my good hand on his chest and leaning my weight against him to try and keep him away from Alex. I think it was as much to keep myself from falling, too. “Leave Alex alone if you can’t stand to look at him.”

I felt his hand wrap around my throat, and I tried to look up into his eyes, but I couldn’t focus on anything. There was a moment, though, when the irony hit me and I realized exactly what I was doing and was reminded of how I’d been too much of a coward to do this before. This was the beating I had earned that day with Gage; this was what should have happened. I tried to glare at Cole, but I’m sure it came out a grimace.

“How the fuck can you be so calm about all this?” he demanded to know, even as he squeezed. I felt Alex pressed up against me, reaching around me, trying to pry Cole’s fingers from around my throat, and I dropped the hand I had on his chest, to push Alex back, hopefully safe and out of the way. I couldn’t be sure; Cole’s fingers were tightening and things were getting hazy.

“Fuckin’ let him go, he’s bleeding!” I could hear Alex plead, but the sound seemed distant, and I couldn’t feel him behind me anymore. Good, he was out of range then. Cole’s hand tightened, and I tried to answer his question, but it was getting harder and harder to breathe. Just when I was sure I was gonna fall into the darkness, there was a crack like thunder and Cole’s hand fell away. I dropped to my knees, sucking in air, gasping, and hoping the dizziness would pass before I got sick.

When I could, I looked up to see Alex standing behind Cole’s crumpled form, the broken remains of one of the barstools clutched in his hands. He was blinking, his mouth in a wide O, astonishment and horror filling his eyes. I couldn’t help it; it reminded me of a bad horror film, or a good comic. Either way, I laughed.

“What the hell is going on here?” a voice bellowed from over by the doorway. I was pretty sure it was Morgan. Man, he was gonna be pissed; he told us all a long time ago never to fight in his bar. We hadn’t been here three days and we’d broken the rules already—even for us that had to be some kind of record.

“Alexia, why are you holdin’ on to the pieces of one of my stools? Asher, what the hell is so funny, and why in the hell is Colton on the floor?”

I stopped laughing and climbed to my feet unsteadily. That wasn’t a good plan, and I quickly found myself on my ass, staring up at the shadow of Morgan looming over me.

“I swear ta God that for once this ain’t my fault,” I told him, praying he believed me.

“Then why don’t you tell me whose fault it is?”

I looked at the ground and was silent. I wasn’t a snitch.

“It was Cole’s,” Alex said from behind him, and Morgan turned away from me to look at him. “He was choking Asher. I had to hit him to make him let go.”

Morgan turned back to me again and knelt down, cupping my chin in his hand so he could raise my head and look at my neck. He hissed, so I was assuming there were bruises already beginning to form. I felt his fingers slide through my hair, and then he cursed. “You’re bleeding, Asher, and you’ve got handprints around your neck.”

“Yeah.”

“Cole threw him on the floor; that was before he choked him,” Alex commented.

Guess he didn’t have the same issues with snitching that I did. Still, this was our big brother, and I wasn’t gonna throw him to the wolves.

“He was drunk, Morgan; he didn’t mean it.”

“Bullshit, Asher. Drunk or not, we just brought you home from the hospital and Cole had no business laying his hands on you.”

“I got in his face. I knew he was drunk and pissed; I should have left him alone.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

I gulped. I didn’t wanna tell a lie; I hadn’t even had a chance to buy a journal yet.

Alex spoke up, yet again. “He was protecting me.”

I shot him a look, trying to silence him with my eyes. I didn’t want Morgan to send Cole away. He didn’t have anywhere else to go, and I knew what that was like. He and I were alike, so if he was gonna go, then I was gonna go with him, even if he had just tried to choke the life out of me.

Cole was stirring, and Morgan yanked him into a sitting position and propped him against the bar. Then he turned his attention back to the pair of us.

“All right, Alexia, since Asher won’t tell me a goddamned thing, why don’t you tell me exactly what happened here?”

Alex sighed. I shook my head, but he ignored me and started speaking anyway. “I came down to get lunch; I didn’t know Cole was down here or I’d have gone out the back way. He was sitting at the table drinking, and as soon as he caught sight of me he flipped and started cussing. Asher came in after things had already gotten pretty bad, and he tried to get Cole to leave me alone, but obviously that didn’t work and things escalated from there.”

Morgan ran a hand through his hair, looking between the three of us, lines of worry and thought etched into his face. Finally, he turned to look at Alex.

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