Page 51 of Shephard

All three of us had. But Jagger suffered from the effects of PTSD more than Hunter and I did. To this day, he hadn’t discussed the horrors he’d been through and I honestly wasn’t certain either one of us wanted to live our own through his stories.

Even if we were allowed to discuss them. I don’t know. Maybe it would ease the tension between us if we did.

“If you can’t do the job, Hunter and I can find someone else. That will be easy.” Maybe my asshole side was being allowed to take control, but Jagger had a way of prickling my anger every time we were in the same room. I didn’t expect him to lunge toward me. I caught the look on his face and the coldness in his eyes seconds before our bodies collided.

It was as if my brother no longer existed. He managed to knock me into the wall, pictures falling off within seconds. The hard thud was forceful, but also a good indication that the walls were thin.

I shoved him away, automatically taking a long stride closer and slamming my fist into his jaw. We’d had fights before, ones where both of us had gotten bloody, but this one had a different feel.

He hated me.

There was no way around it.

Our scuffle was loud enough the door was flung open, a couple of people running in just as I threw a hard jab to Jagger’s jaw. He went down. Hunter jumped in between us, pushing me back.

And now several employees were gawking at our ridiculous behavior.

“Let it go,” Hunter hissed, trying to keep his voice down.

Jagger was smart enough to realize now wasn’t the time or the place for his typical retaliation. He struggled to his feet, turning away from the crowd and running his fingers through his hair.

I took a deep breath and nodded. The deal made with our father wasn’t going to work if we continued acting this way. “There’s nothing to see here, guys,” I said. It was odd to try to disguise my voice, believing my own spewed bullshit that this was nothing but a typical family squabble.

“You’re okay, Mr. Fox?” one of the employees asked although at this point, I couldn’t remember more than a couple of names. “I mean…” His face turned red given he wasn’t certain what to call any of us.

“We’re fine,” Hunter said, his tone now with more of an edge.

I pulled away, furious with myself as much as I was with Jagger. After grabbing my keys, as I pushed my way through the groupof employees, I sensed Hunter’s continued anger. I needed some air and space and that wasn’t going to happen with a crowd of people staring at me.

It was best I get the hell away from people. I barreled down the hall, slamming my hand on the button for the elevator. When it didn’t ramble its way up to the sixth floor as fast as I wanted, I headed to the stairs.

Maybe a little exercise would do me some good. One thing I had done was order a boxing bag to be delivered to the cabin. At least I could get out some of my continued frustrations without taking them out on everyone else.

As I raced down the stairs, I tried to stop all thoughts from keeping my brain hostage. Yet I continued to think accepting this farce was a no-win situation.

I threw open the door when I hit the first floor with enough force it slammed against the wall. Fury was something I was used to, but for more than half my life, I’d been able to walk away from it, sulking or fuming in private. Dealing with people just might do me in.

As I rounded the corner heading to the main entrance, I wasn’t paying close enough attention.

The hard hit was enough that my body was jarred, but given the momentum I was using, it sent the person I’d run into flying across the cold marble. The person hit the floor with a solid thud, even sliding a couple of feet.

Gasps came from every direction, a few people rushing forward.

“I got this. I’m fine. Just fine.”

The voice and the anger in her tone I recognized. What were the odds of running into Denise the way I had? Slim to none. Fate was taking out some kind of revenge on me. Or maybe her. Hell, both of us at this point.

I glared down at her as she shook her head. There were hands out for her to grab and hold her up, but she ignored every one of them. She didn’t just have a hard head. She was a hard-ass. It took one to know one.

Apologizing also wasn’t on my list of attributes, but I did worry I’d broken one of her bones. The crowd moved aside as I walked closer. I guess my reputation had already preceded me.

“Do you need help?” I asked, not bothering to offer my hand at this point. I was fairly certain she would bite it off.

“Not from you.”

The same animosity from before had developed an icy edge. I had my doubts it could be chiseled or sandblasted off at this point. I continued peering down at her, but not to gloat or make fun of her, which her expression indicated she was expecting. She’d been limping the night before, the scrapes I’d seen bloody.

“I can do it, I said.” But she continued to have difficulty.

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