Atlas was in too much agony to ask how that was even possible.
Spinning around and shooting to his feet, Kellen glared at Colt. “Go downstairs before I forget you’re my brother and spill your entrails.”
Colt glanced Atlas’s way, regret filling his green eyes before he walked out.
Going to his dresser, Kellen yanked clothes out of the broken drawers. Atlas gritted his teeth, trying to appear as if he wasn’t in that much pain. Then he tossed that asinine idea aside and cried out.
Kellen squatted back down, cupping Atlas’s face. “I’m going to get us both dressed and take you to the emergency room. I know you’re in pain, baby. I’ll move as fast as I can.”
“I want off my knees, but I can’t get up,” Atlas cried. “I’ve never broken a bone before. It’s more painful than getting choked out, which I never experienced before last night.”
Atlas realized something in that moment. He whined a lot when he was hurt.
Kellen helped him up and guided Atlas to the edge of the bed. “Give me five minutes and we’ll be out the door.”
“I get why your brother would be upset if he thought you hurt one of your skanks, but why did he explode like that?”
“First off, you are not one of my skanks. Second, we’ll talk about that later.” Kellen yanked on a pair of jeans, foregoing underwear. He slid on socks and a shirt before he looked around the room. “Where are your clothes?”
Atlas clenched his teeth and hissed, rocking slightly. “I pulled them off in my sleep, so they could be on the roof for all I know.”
Kellen dropped to his hands and knees and looked under the bed. He stood, scowling before he whipped the covers back. Atlas spotted one of his socks.
“Can you stand, baby?”
When Atlas did, Kellen tossed the mattress off the bed. His jeans and shirt had been tucked between the mattress and the wall.
“We’re missing one sock.”
“Just give me a pair of yours,” Atlas argued. “The longer I stand here, the more it hurts.”
With a nod, Kellen pulled one of the broken drawers too hard and socks scattered everywhere. “At this point, I don’t care if they match!” Atlas shouted.
Kellen squatted in front of Atlas and eased the socks on, one blue, one white. Then he helped Atlas get into his jeans.
“Screw the shirt. I don’t think I can lift my arm to put it on.” Atlas headed for the bedroom door. “Remind me to buy a mallet. That way, if Colt attacks you again, I don’t break any bones.”
“I’ll use my fists anytime you need them.” Kellen snatched Atlas’s sneakers off the floor.
It took too long to get down the spiral staircase. Atlas didn’t feel as balanced as he did on a regular staircase. Going down them was making him dizzy. Kellen kept grabbing Atlas’s sides to keep him steady.
Once they were on the first floor, Kellen guided him to the kitchen. “Wait right here and I’ll grab Lucille.”
“Who?” Atlas wrinkled his nose.
“My car.”
Colt stood by the sink, his arms crossed, looking like a kid who’d been told he wasn’t having Christmas this year. Kellen hurried out the back door, leaving Atlas alone with his brother.
“I’ll find some way to make this up to you, Atlas. I had no idea you were going to clock me, or I would have dodged the blow.”
“If you hadn’t turned into a raving lunatic…” Atlas dropped it. There wasn’t anything he could say that Colt didn’t already know.
As badly as Atlas’s hand hurt, his eyes widened when Kellen pulled a cherry-red muscle car out of the garage. The car shined like it was brand new. “That’s his car?”
“That’s Lucille,” Colt said. “Kellen has a dozen muscle cars, but she’s his pride and joy.”
Atlas saw why. And it explained a lot. Like how Kellen had driven Atlas’s car way too fast. The guy liked power under his palms.