Page 98 of Stuck with my Brother's Firefighter Besties

“You think you’re protecting her?” he asked, his voice dripping with disdain. “You think she’s safe with you? She doesn’t even know what she wants. She’s just using you, just like she used me.”

That was it.

That was the moment I snapped.

I shoved Rick hard against the wall again, the wood groaning under the force. My hand trembled as I held him there, torn between the primal urge to pummel him and the small, rational voice in the back of my head telling me to stop before it got worse. But Rick wasn’t done running his mouth.

“She’s confused,” he hissed, his lips curling into a twisted smirk despite the blood trickling down his chin. “She’ll realize eventually. She’ll come crawling back to me. You can’t compete with what we had. You’re just a placeholder. All of you.”

A sharp crack filled the air before I even realized Colt had stepped forward. Rick’s head snapped to the side, his cheek sporting the angry red imprint of Colt’s fist.

“Shut your damn mouth,” Colt growled, his voice like thunder.

“Enough!” Ryan barked, stepping between us and Rick. His usually calm demeanor was long gone, his jaw tight and his fists clenched. “We’re not doing this. He’s not worth it.”

But Rick, the cockroach that he was, just laughed—a grating, hollow sound that sent my blood boiling all over again.

“Oh, I’m worth it,” he sneered, wiping his bloody lip with the back of his hand. “Otherwise, why are you all so worked up? Face it, she’ll always belong to me. No matter what you do, you’ll never get rid of me.”

And then everything happened at once.

Ryan grabbed my arm, pulling me back just as I lunged for Rick again.

Colt, now beyond reasoning, shoved Ryan out of the way and grabbed Rick by the collar, dragging him toward the porch steps.

Biscuit barked furiously from inside the house, scratching at the door as Lila’s voice rang out, panicked and pleading.

“Stop it! All of you, stop!”

Rick struggled, flailing like a caught fish, but Colt was too strong. The commotion must have drawn the neighbors, because I caught sight of someone peeking through their blinds, phone pressed to their ear.

“Let him go, Colt!” Ryan yelled, trying to intervene again.

“I’ll let him go when he’s six feet under!” Colt snapped, his voice raw with rage.

I stepped in, grabbing Colt’s arm before he could drag Rick any farther. “Enough, Colt! You’re gonna kill him!”

Rick, ever the opportunist, used the distraction to twist free. He stumbled back a few steps, breathing heavily, before pulling something from his pocket.

“Stay back!” he shouted, brandishing a small knife.

His hand shook so much that it was clear he had no real control over it, but the sight of the blade was enough to make us pause.

“You’vegotto be kidding me,” Ryan muttered under his breath.

“Put that down before you do something even dumber than you already have,” I warned, my voice low and steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me.

Rick didn’t listen.

His eyes darted wildly between the three of us, his grip on the knife tightening as his breathing grew more erratic.

And then, as if on cue, the sound of sirens cut through the tension, growing louder with each passing second.

“Great,” Ryan muttered, his shoulders sagging slightly. “This is about to get a whole lot worse.”

The police cars screeched to a halt at the curb, their lights flashing in a chaotic dance of red and blue. Officers Davis and Hall stepped out, their hands hovering near their weapons as they took in the scene.

“What the hell is going on here?” Davis barked, his sharp gaze darting between us and Rick, who still held the knife.

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