Page 43 of Memories of Us

“I don't know. I wasn't there. Now let go of me.”

His grip tightened instead. “Your little incident with that boy almost ruined my job here before. Don't fuck it up again.” Instead of releasing my arm, he gave me a hard shove, forcing me to stumble a few steps.

I shouldn't care what he thought or said. Shouldn't give a rat’s ass about his words or his tone or his annoyed look. But he was my dad. How could I not?

Tears welled as I shuffled back to Bradley's bedroom. Before stepping inside, I stood outside the door to shake out my trembling hands and take a deep breath to face Brenton.

His intense, narrowed green eyes greeted me the second I entered and tracked my every movement toward the bed where he’d laid Bradley.

“Beks.” The restrained anger in that one word wrenched my wounded heart.

“It's fine,” I whispered.

“It's not fucking fine.”

“Not now. I need a few wet rags to get the blood off. It looks like his cheek split, but that's all I can see at this point.” Behind me, he lingered close a few seconds before squeezing my shoulder and disappearing out of the room. “What happened to you?” I whispered to my unconscious brother.

A minute later, cool droplets of water coursed down my back. Without turning, I reached for the rag, which Brenton gently sat in my waiting palm. Each swipe of the clean cloth across Bradley's face revealed a different cut or bruise. Across his right cheekbone was the deepest gash; everything else was superficial, but it would take several days before he'd be able to see from his right eye or move without terrible pain.

Not daring to stitch him up without numbing medicine, I placed several Steri-Strips along the gash to close it as tight as possible. Brenton stayed silent as he played nurse, taking the dirty rags and returning with clean ones. Not once did Daddy come in to check on the progress.

Finished with doctoring his face, I prodded along his collarbone, checking for breaks before moving down to his ribs. A few places I poked drew a gasp or moan.

“A few cracked ribs, but nothing is broken that I can tell.”

The brooding man in the corner gave no response.

“I don't know what’s going on. Ryder mentioned some people were looking for him, but I didn't think—”

“Didn't think I needed to know that? Hell, Rebeka. Those men were here. They were near you. What if you hadn't been out with me? What if you'd been in that barn when...?” Not finishing, he turned to glare out the window.

“I'm sorry.”

“You're sorry.” His sarcastic tone reopened the wound Daddy had left.

“I'm a disappointment. I get it. Don't have to remind me.”

He was at the window one second, then had me in his arms, pressed against his hard chest the next. Not caring about how I smelled or the blood still on my hands, I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him even tighter than he held me.

“That's not what I'm saying, Beks. You've never disappointed me. I'm pissed those men were on my property and I didn't do anything about it. Now you're in danger and....” His chest ballooned out with a deep breath. “I'll hire a security firm tomorrow. No one gets on this property without approval. I can't do much after I'm gone, but I can at least do this to protect you.”

Right. For a minute there, safe in his arms, I'd forgotten.

Releasing my hold, I stepped back and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.

“What that fuck?” said a loud, angry voice from the doorway.

Our wide eyes focused on Kyle scowling from the doorway.

“The hell are you doing here?” I stepped farther out of Brenton's hold, which he noted with a directed scowl.

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. Enough of these men today.

“Me? What the hell is he doing here?”

The two men moved toward each other.

Instead of watching the pissing contest that was about to commence, I stepped between them with both arms outstretched. “Stop it, Kyle. He helped me get Bradley in here and while I fixed him up. Now answer me, what the hell are you doing here? Where's Ryder?”

Still glaring at Brenton, Kyle inclined his head out the door. “Your dad called me. Said you needed help, and I was close by.”

I tossed both arms in the air and cursed, startling both men.

“Why in the hell did he call you?” Brenton asked while keeping a cautious eye on me.

“Because Daddy wants me to marry someone like Kyle. Hell, maybe even Kyle himself.” Kyle gave a nervous laugh while Brenton stayed stone-faced. “I've passed my time of finding a good husband, and I'm nothing without one of those. So there you have it. I have a fucking degree from Texas A&M, and I'm nothing without a set of balls by my side guiding me through life.”

“Ah, Beka—”

I cut Kyle off with a raised hand. “I'm over this.” Cutting my eyes to Brenton, I nodded in the direction of the barn. “Be ready in thirty minutes if you still want to come with me tonight. If not, I'll see you when I see you.”

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