Page 22 of Tulips and Lost Time

Because the lake isn’t for heels, no matter how short one’s skirt is.

“Luca?”

“Kari!” I shove weeping branches aside and stomp into the little getaway beneath, where mosquitoes thrive and sneaking couples come to sneak. I zero in on Beaterman first. His wide eyes and panicked stare. He knows whose sister he’s fucking with. And he knows if Marc didn’t see him do the wrong thing, someone else did.

Furious, I glance at Kari and stop on the spaghetti strap of her top, fallen from her shoulder and draping over her arm, flushed with a blush that stretches up her chest and neck.

Her tank is tiny, the fabric, impossibly thin.

But did I say shit when I saw her earlier?

No.

Did I tell Marc? Or hell, did I tell her to go back inside and change?

No.

I mind my own business. It’s what I do! I refuse to be the overbearing older brother. But I’ll be fucked and stuffed before I stand by and let Beaterman undress Kari Macchio while her brother is too busy to do anything about it.

“What the hell are you doing, Luca?” Kari hurriedly fixes her top and stomps forward. Just one step. It’s all she allows herself because she knows if she comes any closer, I’ll grab on and take her back to Marcus. Instead, she lifts her chin and puffs her chest forward.

Defiance.

Anger.

“We had a deal!”

“Yeah, the deal was that you’d come out to the lake tonight and I wouldn’t snitch. The deal had nothing to do with you, Beaterman, and spaghetti strap tops showing off half your fucking chest. And it sure as shit had nothing to do with you sneaking into the dark with him! He’s way too old for you, Kari!”

“What are you even talking about?” Her eyes swing down to study her tank, her hands smoothing over the fabric. “My top is fine! And Garth is?—”

“I’m just gonna…” Beaterman steps right. Twice. Three times. Four. Lifting his hand and readying to brush the weeping branches aside. “I’m gonna go.”

“Nah, bitch.” I stalk forward and grab his shirt, buttons popping under my hold and his face turning an instant, dangerous puce as I twist the collar and tighten the fabric around his throat. “She’s too young for you, Dick.”

“Luca!”

I stare down into Garth’s terrified eyes and sneer. “That’s a statutory rape charge if I ever saw one.”

“Rape?” He spasms and practically levitates off the ground. His eyes taking up his whole damn face. “What!? I didn’t even touch her.”

“You’re all huddled up out here in the dark.” He and I are the same height. Almost the same build. He’s got that football broadness I don’t have—I prefer to skate and spend my time behind a drum kit—but the fact that he’s technically bigger than me seems to count for naught when the dude quivers under my hand. “You’re not gonna show her any more attention.”

“Luca!”

I ignore Kari. Even when she stomps up behind me and slams a closed fist into my ribs and steals the breath from my lungs.

Instead, I use that frustration and pain to shake Garth fucking Beaterman. “I catch you anywhere near her, ever again, and I’ll tear your fucking esophagus out.”

“Luc!”

“Do you understand me?”

“I didn’t touch her!”

“And you won’t get a chance to in the future, either.” I give him another shake, his teeth snapping closed and rattling together until the sound carries in the air louder than the band’s music. “Turn your ass around,” I release his shirt so he stumbles back and half falls through the weeping branches. “And don’t come near her again.”

“Luc Lenaghan!” Kari growls. “Swear to god, I’m going to kill you!”

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