Page 2 of Curious
That makes me blink. “Yourboyfrienddid this to you? What the hell kind of—”
“Myex-boyfriend,” he mutters. I don’t miss his flinch from processing that he went from a boyfriend to an ex in the space of, what? This afternoon? A few minutes? He looks scared and angry and roughed up.
I’m looming over him, but it’s because I want to put a wall around him so no one will ever do anything like this again. I can be a protective barrier against the world and whatever he’s vulnerable to. “Shelby. What. Happened?”
“He’s pissed because I found out about him,” he mumbles. He gazes at me, resigned. “I just moved in with him—haven’t even unpacked all the way—and I got home from work early. I walked in all chipper and calling to him, but he was talking to someone on the phone.” Shelby’s lip juts out, and tears well in his eyes. “His goddamnwife, who lives in New York.” He swallows. “He’s a talent agent, and I thought his trips out of town were to check on shows there. So apparently yeah, he did do that, but he also was living with hisfamilyback east. His wife heard my voice, and she started yelling, so loud even I could hear it, and then he hung up the phone and turned on me.”
“He put his hands on you?” My voice is very low.
Shelby looks away.
My blood’s boiling. I don’t consider myself to be particularly violent, but I get pissed at bullies, especially those who pick on people smaller than they are. I had plenty of experience in school defending Charlie and Reyna, my two younger siblings, both of whom are queer. I’m bigger and have always been in charge of keeping them safe.
I’m feeling protective about Shelby right now. Most of the time I’m easygoing, but things like this set me off. While, from what I’ve seen at Weston & Ramirez parties, Shelby has the mouth to be able to tell anyone off, he’s so little there’s no way he could win a fight. Even a fair fight. And I’d wager whoever roughed him up didn’t play fair by any means.
Even though some part of me knows this situation is none of my business, I can’t let it go. Shelby’s become my business because he’s part of my siblings’ professional lives.
I stalk up to the house, boots clomping loudly on the walk, and knock on the door.
“Camden!” Shelby calls, following me, his bare feet silent. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” I ask, facing him. I’m trying to be gentle with him, even though my heart is thundering in my ears and my hands keep clenching into fists.
“Just … just forget it. Please.” He gives me these big, pleading eyes, and for a moment, I’m tempted to turn back. “He’ll calm down. I’ll get my stuff later.”
“He shouldn’t get away with treating you like that.”
The door opens, and a male voice behind me says, “Who shouldn’t get away with what?”
The man in the doorway is fit, maybe in his thirties, with light brown hair and a slick look to him, but he’s quivering with suppressed rage.
“Evan,” Shelby whispers. “We were just, um. Going—”
I step closer and ask in a quiet voice, “Did you hit Shelby?”
Evan scoffs and cracks his knuckles. “My renter? He tripped. Kind of clumsy.”
“Bullshit,” I snarl. “Yourrenter? He’s your dirty little secret, isn’t he? Your wife didn’t know you’re in the closet. God, you’re a pathetic loser.”
“I think you need to leave.” Evan takes a step outside and gets in my face. I’m taller, but he’s a little bigger. Not much. I’m in better shape, I think, from all the physical work I do. This guy looks like he goes to the gym, but that doesn’t mean he actually knows how to fight.
I was in plenty of fights as a teenager, but since I left my twenties, I thought I’d left that crap behind me.
Except I can’t let this asshole get away with hurting people. “I think you need to be better,” I tell him. “Don’t ever fucking lay a hand on anyone else, let alone someone smaller than you. You think you’re such a big man, but you’re just scared. It’s obvious.”
“Cam,” Shelby says, tugging on the sleeve of my flannel. “Drop it.”
There’s a lot more I’d like to say to this loser—preferably with my fists—but Shelby deserves to have someone pay attention to what he wants. I needed to size up the asshole who had the absolute gall to fuck with Shelby. Now that I know what I’m dealing with, I’ll do what Shelby says. I nod and address Evan. “We’ll come back to get Shelby’s things. We’ll give you a heads-up so you can be somewhere far away.”
“Far, far away,” Shelby mutters. “Ugh. He’s not worth it. I can’t believe I wasted my time with him. I can’t believe he has awife. Bastard.”
I take a deep breath and turn to walk away, but out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Evan making a fist. He lunges for Shelby, muttering, “You fucked my life up, you little shit.”
My reflexes are fast, and I step in between them and punch Evan hard in the nose. He yelps and aims for me instead. I sidestep him easily and hit him again in the face, ignoring the way my knuckles sting. Then a fist in the gut. He’s doubled over and swearing, and while some part of me wants to keep whaling on him, I can maintain control. “Pick on someone your own size, jackass,” I grit out.
Blood is starting to trickle out of his nose, and he spits on me. “I’ll sue you for assault.”
“Do it,” I sneer. “I’m related to two lawyers.”
