Page 105 of Scotch on the Rocks

I clenched my fists, the only thing I could do to stopmyself reaching for her as I trailed after them like the fucking odd man out, catching the door when she let it slam in my face. My laugh was bitter, in harmony with the cold night air stinging my overheated skin.

“Fucking touché, harpy.”

“Just stop talking.” Rounding on me, she poked a dagger-tipped finger in my chest. Nostrils flared, gloriously furious, she looked like a goddess, backlit by the moonlight. “I think you’ve said more than enough tonight.”

“We agreed we were going to tell him,” I said calmly, very aware of Alistair two paces away, hands on his hips as though he needed to witness Juniper and me in real time to believe it. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“Don’t pretend a single moment of that was about us!” she yelled, every line of her taut with fury. “What happened to a soft launch? Those were your words and then you just claimed me like used furniture at a flea market. That was all about you and your own fragile pride!” With a disgusted shake of her head, she spun away, like she couldn’t even be bothered to look at me.

Hell no, sweetheart.

I followed her – like I always would – but Alistair was quicker. So fast, I didn’t even see it coming.

One second I was on my feet, panic stealing the breath from my lungs as I watched her walk away, the next I was flat on my back, fire lashing from my cheek to my lip, my wee brother’s forbidding face blacking out the stars.

33

Juniper

April: Need help burying a body?

Juniper: Not yet but stay on standby.

April: Yes ma’am. I’m great with a shovel.

Juniper: I hope that’s under special skills on your résumé.

Three things happened at once.

I screamed.

Alistair roared like a wounded animal, shaking out his hand.

Callum’s body stiffened and hit the ground with all the force of a car hitting a tree. It might have been comical if I weren’t the proverbial rag doll in the centre of it all.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I tried to rush toward them, but my heels sank in the gravel, slowing me down. “What the hell are you doing?”

Mal got there first, I hadn’t even noticed him follow until his arms circled Alistair’s chest. “Calm the fuck down,” he was saying. I barely heard him, dropping to my knees beside Callum as he pushed onto an elbow.

“Thought you weren’t going to hit me,” he said, blood trickling from a small cut on his lip as he turned his head to spit.

Alistair flexed his fingers. “I changed my mind.”

“Feel better?” Callum asked, wiping the blood from his chin.

Alistair bared his teeth. “Not even close.”

Callum nodded, like he expected as much, then looked to the hand Alistair cradled. “You tucked your thumb; you’ve probably broken it.”

“Bloody prick.” Alistair charged again, making it a step before Mal hauled him back, muttering rushed words to try and defuse the situation. “How long have you been fucking her?”

“Watch your tone.” Callum’s voice was pure venom. Nostrils flaring like a dragon woken from a century-long sleep.

“Why? It’s true, isn’t it? I bet you’ve been planning this for years behind my back.” His eyes shot to me, wilder than I’d ever seen them. “Or maybe it was all your idea to get back at me.”

And so what if it was?I wanted to yell. The ridiculous display of testosterone making me want to lash out. Act as childishly as they were. But fury was pouring from Callum, promising more than a single punch.

“Go inside and calm the hell down,” I said to Alistair. “The victim complex is starting to look pathetic.” My words probably made things worse, but I didn’t care. For weeks I’d resisted Callum for this very reason, explicitly telling him I didn’t want any conflict. Then he’d had the gall to go and cause a scene in the middle of April and Mal’s party.

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