Page 22 of Last One Standing
“Who’s Baxter?”
“My friend…you rest, I’ll bring you something sweet.”
He knew I couldn’t argue and was taking advantage of that. I didn’t know who Baxter was. Pika couldn’t drive, and Brick didn’t usually care where Pika was unless he was with me, so I believed he’d have no trouble going anywhere without me…except Brick had eyes everywhere and while he didn’t much care where Pika went, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t find out.
I tried to sit up, but it was hopeless. As soon as I did. I was vomiting into the trash bin beside the bed. This wasn’t good. It was almost twenty-four hours; it should be subsiding soon.Yeah. I plopped the ice pack on my eyes again and let sleep claim me.
I woke up to dark skies…it was night, and there were loud angry voices coming from somewhere in the clubhouse.
I lifted my head, happy that I didn’t feel like puking. I sat up, rubbed my temples, and looked around the room. Pika wasn’t here. With a weary sigh I stood, thirst and a full bladder being my driving force.
The yelling was ugly, and I assumed a prospect had fucked up. I went into the bathroom, cringed at my reflection, used the toilet, and immediately decided I needed a shower and to brush my teeth.
Once I was done, feeling marginally better, I wrapped myself in a towel, stepped out of the bathroom, and froze.
Brick was sitting on my bed and when he heard me, he turned. His gaze traveled the length of my body and where once upon a time it would have made me shiver with anticipation, now it repulsed me.
“Brick, what’s going on?”
He narrowed his eyes and didn’t speak for a second. I stood there wondering what was happening. My gut said nothing good.
“I had one of the prospects take out your trash—it reeked—and put clean sheets on the bed.”
I noticed then that they were different. “Uh, thanks.”
He patted the spot beside him. “Sit, Kona.”
I really didn’t want to, more so because all I had covering myself was a towel, and there was no way I was going to get it up for Brick right now. Saying no wasn’t an option, so I slowly made my way over and did as he asked.
He was so close, I could smell leather, tobacco, and bourbon. “You’ve been here all day.” It wasn’t a question but I nodded all the same. “Do you know where your brother was today?”
Shit. Fuck. “No. I was sleeping and throwing up most of the day, thanks to the lovely concussion you gave me.”
He had the decency to flinch, but it was short lived. “You know, Kona, I’m not sure what the two of you are playing at, but I’m not a dumb man. I’m not some weak person that doesn’t figure shit out and beat it into the ground if I don’t like it.”
“I’m well aware, Brick.”
“So then why would a fifteen-year-old boy think I was any of those things?”
What was he…? Suddenly the shouting from earlier was coming back to me. “Where’s Pika?”
“You don’t know where he was, you don’t know where he is…have you lost all control of him, Kona?” He lifted his hand and slowly slid it under my towel. “Do I need to keep your brother in check now like I do you?”
“Don’t you touch him. He’s fifteen!”
He squeezed my thigh so hard, there was no doubt there would be black-and-blue fingerprints there. “He went to talk to that Angel guy and his brothers today, Kona,” he growled. “You think I don’t know they own that shop Saintly Sweets?”
Of course that was where he’d gone. As soon as he’d seen the condition I was in, he’d used that as the reason to talk to them.
“I was craving something sweet; he was probably trying to surprise me.”
He snorted. “I’m not an idiot. I’m always watching you two. He’s never stepped foot in there before.”
I slammed my hand over his and forcefully removed his from my leg. “Where is my brother?”
“He’s with Tank.”
“Why?”
