Page 75 of Stick Handled

“Call it what you want,” he bites out. “But someone has to protect her.”

“There it is again.” I bark out a laugh, sharp and bitter. “You’re not protecting her, asshole. You’re treating her like she’s some fragile doll that’ll break if the world so much as breathes on her wrong. She’s stronger than you give her credit for. Stronger than you, that’s for damn sure. And she deserves more than this bullshit you’re pulling.”

“You don’t get to talk about what she deserves.” Rowan takes a step forward, his voice rising. “You’re not even capable of giving it to her! You think I’m going to stand by and let you drag her into your world? A world of scandals, arrests, and women who are nothing but a one-night stand?”

“What does the man for Avery look like in your eyes? Huh?” I snap, my voice rising to match his. “What’s your fucking checklist? Prince Charming? Some perfect little saint who’s never gotten his hands dirty, never made mistakes? Who doesn’t have his face splashed across the tabloids every other week because he’s boring as shit and has nothing to hide?”

Rowan doesn’t answer, but his silence is louder than anything he could say.

“Guess what?” I continue, my voice lowering but no less fierce. “That guy doesn’t exist. And even if he did, it wouldn’t matter, because she didn’t. Choose. Him. She choseme. Me, my past, and all the messy, fucked-up shit that comes with it. And you know why? Because Avery’s not some delicate little flower you need to keep locked in a cage. She’s brilliant, Rowan. Strong. Independent. And you’re so blinded by your own issues that you can’t even see it.”

Rowan’s face twists, and he looks like he’s about to respond, but I cut him off, stepping closer, my voice dropping to a lethal edge.

“You think you’re the good guy here? The hero? You’re not. You’re just a man who’s so terrified of losing control that you’re willing to destroy the one person you’re supposed to protect. You didn’t save her tonight, Rowan. You shattered her. You want to talk about who’s no good for her? Take a good, long fucking look in the mirror.”

Rowan’s fists are shaking now, his knuckles white. “You don’t know what it’s like to have to look out for her,” he snaps, his voice cracking with the weight of his emotions.

“You’re right. I don’t know what it’s like to be her brother. But I know what it’s like to love her, just like you do. And as of tonight, I know what it’s like to see her broken because the one person she thought would always be in her corner decided to fuck her up instead. So yeah, I’m not perfect. I’ve fucked up more times than I can count. But the difference between us? I’d never hurt anyone like that on purpose. I’d never destroy her just to make myself feel better. Can you say the same?”

Rowan stares at me, his chest heaving, his face a storm of anger and something else, something that looks a hell of a lot like guilt.

For a long moment, the room is silent except for the sound of our heavy breathing. Then I step back, shaking my head.

“I’m in love with her, Rowan. And whether you like it or not, I’m not going anywhere.”

My pulse is still hammering, and my blood is still boiling, but I’ve said all I need to say. Anything more, and I might actually throw a punch, and I don’t want that. Not for Avery’s sake, and not because Rowan doesn’t deserve it, but because she’s already been through enough tonight.

A soft sound gets my attention.

A quiet intake of breath.

My head snaps up, and I freeze.

There she is. My beautiful girl.

Avery stands at the top of the stairs, her silhouette framed by the dim hallway light. Her hands grip the banister, her knuckles pale, and her lips are parted as though she’s trying to catch her breath. Tears stream down her face, catching the faint light and making them shimmer like drops of glass.

Fuck.

Chapter twenty-five

~AVERY~

The room feels suffocating. It’s silent, heavy with everything I’ve just overheard.

I stand frozen at the top of the stairs, my heart racing in my chest. Their words still echo in my mind, like a shot to the head I can’t recover from. Rowan sent the girl to Damien’s house. He set that whole thing up, and the worst part is, I don’t even know if I should be relieved or devastated.

Part of me wants to scream at him. Part of me wants to curl up into a ball and forget all of this ever happened. How could he do this? How could he hurt me like this, go to such lengths to “protect” me? I’m not a fragile thing to be wrapped in bubble wrap. I’m not a possession to be kept safe from the world. And I think it’s finally time for him to come to terms with it.

But at the same time, part of me understands. He’s always tried to keep me safe, even if he’s overprotective at times. That’s just Rowan, but he does it out of love.

I want to run away from this, from all of it. But there’s something else, too—a deep ache in my chest for Damien. For what he’s gone through because of this. His face is bruised, and I don’t need to ask to know who did this to him. He didn’t deserve any of this. Not from his best friend.

I can feel the tears starting to well up again. I swallow hard, blinking them away. I can’t fall apart right now.

I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and make my way down the stairs. My mind is a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, but there’s one thing I know for sure. I won’t let Rowan think he can control me anymore.

Rowan is standing there, arms crossed, looking like the world’s weight is on his shoulders. Damien’s eyes are following me, fury still burning in them, but there’s also sadness.

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