Page 29 of Tight End

Pulling him away from that bald guy was the least I could do after what he went through and what I gained. But it’s pretty damn clear that the universe doesn’t agree.

The guy is a real jackass, but he’s obviously hurting. His caustic words and nasty commentary are just shielding the devastation buried underneath. The heartbreak must be unbearable. I know it would have destroyed me. So if I have topretend to be his boyfriend, and sacrifice my reputation as a decent human being as a result, hell, I’ll do it.

I have my brother, all because he lost his.

It kills me to say this…but I owe Brixton Scott, and I’m more than ready to pay the debt.

Chapter 12

Brixton

“Showtime, guys.” Ben nods toward the door of the truck. “Get out there and do your thing. Security will escort you inside.”

I clench my jaw.

Fucking social media.

I mean, seriously, how many other guys did Mr. Clean beat to shit before karma came back to bite him in his big ass?

And just because I’m somebody, I’ve got to pay that price.

Another Escalade pulls up next to us and two of our security guys hop out. I let out a frustrated breath.

How many more people are gonna be dragged into this? Bad enough I already have a ball and chain shackled to my ankle.

My eyes slide over Sam’s profile and I ball my fingers into a tight fist.

No. Fuck that. I don’t care that he’s the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. He’s practically a priest. Probably never fucked another guy, either.

He’s way too good to get dirty.

He jerks his head toward me, a glimmer of a challenge flickering in his dark eyes. Jesus, it’s as if he read my thoughts. “Ready,sweetheart?”

I push open the door closest to me and farthest from the mob outside the Emergency Room doors. Our security guys, Mike and Steve, flank me on both sides as my feet hit the pavement. Sam jumps out of the truck after me.

I square my shoulders and walk around the front of the truck when I’m assaulted by bright flashes.

Phones fuckingeverywhere.

I hate Rex and Ben right now. With a burning passion.

Sweeping my gaze over the crowd, my shoulders relax the slightest bit when I see a few cops among the angry faces. Mike and Steve are more than prepared to handle unruly crowds, and they’ve had their fair share of deranged fans to deal with, but it’s still comforting to know there’s a possibility I won’t be slaughtered by a biker gang tonight.

Even then, I wouldn’t regret what I did…except that it thrust me back to a time and place I’d buried deep in the recesses of my heart and mind.

A strong hand lands on the small of my back. A rush of heat makes my skin tingle. I want to resist, to twist away from him, shake off his hand to show Sam I am more than able to fight my own damn battles.

Instead, I suck in air and let it stay exactly where it is.

Because I need this.

Not only am I about to plunge into my horrific past, but I’m doing it with a target on my back.

I needhim.

Goosebumps pebble my skin as his fingers massage the knot lodged at the base of my spine. He can’t possibly know it’s there but fuck me if it doesn’t shrink at his touch almost immediately.

The cops catch sight of us and clear a path for Mike while Steve brings up the rear. A barrage of memories pop between my temples like exploding bullets. I push through the glass revolving door, my nostrils assaulted by the sharp scent of antiseptic cleaner. My eyes drop to the beige tile floor, my toe sliding along a cracked edge, the same edge I stared at for what seemed like hours before I was able to see Davis, two years ago tonight.

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