Page 195 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

“Why haven’t you?” Dean pours fuel into the fire. “He fucking humiliated you. I say you go in there and show him who’s boss. Unless… you’re scared you can’t take him?”

I cast a glance toward Brody.

And see a switch flip in his eyes.

It’s like something died… Like whatever humanity he had inside him was drained from his body.

His fragile ego couldn’t handle the blows, and Dean knew that. He knew exactly how to push his buttons.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Brody asks Dean.

Dean nods. “That kid needs to be taught a lesson.”

“You still have them?” Brody adds.

“You bet.”

What the fuck is happening?

Scar and I trade glances, the look in his eyes matching the confusion in mine.

I realize what a monumental fucking mistake I’ve made when Brody reaches inside Dean’s glove compartment…

…and pulls out a gun.

“Dude, what the fuck?” I blurt out, backing away.

“What the hell are you doing?” Scar echoes.

“This isn’t fucking funny, man,” Axel joins in.

Brody lets out a dark chuckle. “What? You pussies never seen a gun before?”

I haven’t.

Not up close, anyway.

“Bro, just put the gun away.” Axel tries to talk some sense into him.

“I don’t think so,” Brody says through gritted teeth. “Let’s see how brave this asshole really is.”

That’s my snapping point.

“Fuck this shit. Scar, let’s go.” I start to unbuckle my seat belt, ready to make a run for it.

But something stops me.

Something cold.

It prods the side of my head, pushing against my temple.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I hear Brody’s snarl, but all I can focus on is the pounding of my heart in my skull.

It takes me a split second to understand Brody is pressing the gun to my head.

Gasps ricochet around the car, but no one speaks, the shock descending over us snuffing out our ability to speak.

I just wanted to party and drink my troubles away.

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