Page 60 of Unravel Me

“Tonight.”

I walk to the bedroom door before giving her one last look. She’s mid-cat stretch, and I groan out loud. It takes all my strength to walk away from her. But at least I’m leaving her in one of my T-shirts and in my bed.

She’ll be here when I get home. I feel it.

“Dallas, what the fuck are you doing in my office?”

He glances around, a puzzled look on his face.

“Who the fuck are you? This is my office now.”

“I don’t think so, dickhead, get out of my chair.”

I walk around my desk and Dallas scoots away from it in my office chair like a fifth grader.

“Dallas, what are you, ten? Get up and give me my chair. We’ve got shit to talk about.”

“This is my chair now, shithead. Who bought it anyway? This one is way better than the one in my office.”

“I did. Now get the fuck out of it and let me sit down.”

He pushes his feet to propel him further away. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. The sight is laughable. My twin, a grown-ass man, who is slightly taller and has about thirty pounds of weight on me, is sliding around in an office chair like we’re in elementary school.

“Dallas. Give me my fucking chair. We aren’t kids anymore and I’ve got shit to do.”

“Come and get it, fucker. This is mine now.”

He scoots further and further away, white-knuckling the armrests. The moment he reaches for the door to open it wider, I launch myself at him, wrapping my arm around his neck in a chokehold, and dropping my weight forward into the ground, forcing him to bend with me. We fall to the hardwood floor, my expensive Herman Miller chair tipping over on top of us. Dallas punches wildly, connecting with my ribs. I tighten my hold around his neck and jerk us back straight, sending the chair scattering away, I throw a blow into his stomach that causes him to make a horrendous noise.

“If you puke on me, dickhead, I swear I’ll make you clean my office with your toothbrush!” I say through gritted teeth.

He reaches his free arm around to grab my shoulder and I lift and drop my elbow down onto his forearm. “Fuck! That fucking hurt!”

Using all of his weight, he turns us and I lose my hold around his neck. We shove each other, wrestling on the ground, trying to get the other to submit. I get him on his back, one of my knees on his chest, my hand pressing the side of his face into the ground. He continues to push me, throwing wild punches, and flips again, rolling us.

“What the fuck is going on in here?”

Dallas and I both freeze, he has my arm cinched behind my back, my fingers nearly touching the back of my head, and I’m throwing punches with my free hand into his ribs and stomach. We stare at Liam and Carter, neither of us wanting to be the one who lets go first.

“He started it,” Dallas says.

“Holy shit. Dad left these two in charge?” Carter says to Liam.

“Technically he left just me in charge,” I reply as Dallas yanks up further on my arm. It fucking hurts, but I’d rather he dislocate my shoulder than give him the satisfaction of besting me.

“We’ve got shit to talk about. Get the fuck up.”

Liam’s face leaves no room for misunderstanding. Dallas and I release each other, and I move to pick up my chair when he does the same.

I push him out of my way before moving it back to his rightful home behind my desk.

“I’ll give you the link, you moron. You can buy your own. Now sit down or fuck off.”

I look down at my now-wrinkled shirt and pants and do my best to comb my fingers through my hair. I take a seat and my brothers do the same.

“Alright. What have I missed?”

“Nothing. What have we missed?” Liam says, straight to the point. I should have known that they’d corner and force information out of me.

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