Page 19 of Toxic Hope
Every part of my body goes stiff all at once while I stare at him, silent. He’s an abuser. At least, that’s what Preston says. Maybe I shouldn’t believe him. Okay, Idefinitelyshouldn’t believe him, at least not without proof or something. But exactly what kind of proof could I hope for in this situation? I mean, short of finding the sister who was supposedly beaten up by him.
His face scrunches up like he’s confused while dark, beady eyes search my face. “You all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
He reaches out to touch my arm, but I pull away without thinking. His brows draw together—just for a second, just long enough for me to notice—before his forehead smooths out again. “You looked a little unsteady there,” he explains. “You had me worried.”
“I’m fine, thank you.” This is too bizarre. I’m in a trance or something. I’m too overwhelmed. That’s the problem, and now my heart is pounding hard enough to distract me, the sound echoing in my ears and blending with the chatter going on all around us. Cheerful coffee shop chatter. Nothing unusual. Nobody is aware of the little drama unfolding nearby.
“This is really lucky for me,” he says, almost whispering. “I was hoping I could find you somehow.”
“You wanted to find me? Why?”
And why am I even engaging with him? I don’t owe him anything.
“Well, after what happened… and yousawwhat happened,” he adds, “I’ve been thinking about pressing charges. I mean, you see this? Just one thing I had to pay to get fixed.” He touches a finger to the scar I noticed.
Isn’t it funny? If I never saw Preston today, and he never gave me his version of events, how would I react to Brody right now? Considering everything the twins have done to me so far, I would probably offer any help I could give. Whatever it takes, so long as the two of them get what’s coming.
This is different. I have doubts now. No, it’s still not cool for the two of them to beat him up like they did.
They should have taken him on one at a time. Because if hedidhurt their sister, if she ended up in the ER because of him, I can understand why they would kick the crap out of him.
But the wordifis the big word here, isn’t it? And I still have doubts.
And this is not the place to voice those doubts, but I might not get this chance again. “What you’re saying is, you want to know if I will be a witness for you? If you decide to press charges?”
“Yeah. That’s it.” He wears a funny expression, like he’s not sure if he should laugh. “Would you do that? You were there. You saw. I had no chance of defending myself.”
The intensity in his voice gives me an uncomfortable feeling inside. I don’t like the way he’s looking at me, either. His eyes boring holes into me, his body blocking my view of most of the café. He’s a pretty big guy—didn’t Preston point that out earlier? And now he’s standing in front of me, and I know what he wants to hear. I’m just not sure I can say it.
It’s obvious he’s waiting to hear something, tensed, ready to spring. Or is that just the way I’m seeing him, thanks to theway Preston described him? “I’m going to have to think about it,” I whisper. The ice is rattling in my cup. The twins have intimidated me before, but this guy? There’s something scary about him.
“Give me your number, anyway.” For the second time today, I’m backed into a corner. Why won’t somebody notice and help me? Then again, nobody’s paying attention. We could just be having a conversation, maybe flirting. “I can give it to my lawyer.”
“I…” I would rather swallow broken glass. There are a million red flags waving like crazy in my head, telling me not to give this guy any way of contacting me.
“What’s your problem?” he snaps. “What, am I the bad guy here? Two guys attack me, and I don’t deserve any help?”
“Hey! The fuck do you think you’re doing?”
It’s like magic. All it takes is the sound of that voice—loud, sharp, full of anger—to release whatever valve is inside me, holding the pressure back. It releases all at once and almost makes me sink to the floor. I have to grab hold of a nearby table to steady myself as Brody turns around to face both Easton and Preston, standing by the door.
Thank god. I never thought I’d ever be happy to see them, but this has been a weird day.
It doesn’t hit me until they’re halfway across the café that I shouldn’t be so relieved, because it’s not Brody they’re glaring at. It’s not Brody they’re marching toward. It’s me.
“The fuck are you doing with him?” Easton almost shouts. There are gasps and laughs all around us, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t even notice them.
“After what I told you? What, did you meet him here?” Preston glares hatefully at me before turning to Brody, who jerks his chin defiantly. “What, have you been working together?”
“What would we be working together on?” I whisper. “Try to think critically for once.” Because dammit, they cannot just storm in here and make a scene. They can’t just embarrass me like this.
“I’ve had enough of your smart-ass shit,” Preston warns.
“Just leave her alone,” Brody grunts, trying to put himself between me and the two of them. Oh, great. What has my life become if this scumbag is defending me?
Easton’s teeth are bared in a snarl. “I will put you in the ground if you say one more word to me. The two of you will have to have your little meeting someplace else.”
“It wasn’t a meeting.” Why am I even bothering? They’re not paying attention. They’ve already made up their minds.
