Page 107 of The Mistakes I've Made
“What?” I looked back at him like he was going insane. “I don’t need time! I don’t have issues to work through. I’m not you!”
My words hurt, and I could see the physical pain in his eyes as they stung their way into his heart.
“Oh, really? Then, how did breakfast go this morning? Planning on doing it again tomorrow? What about the next day?”
Now, it was him doing the hurting, and I couldn’t help but fight back.
Only this time, I didn’t retaliate with words.
I went for his throat instead.
“What the hell—oomph!” he yelled out the moment I tackled him.
Was it a dick move, trying to kick the ass of my brother who happened to be an amputee?
Probably.
But he was the one who would go on and on about wanting to be treated just like everyone else.
Right now, he was being an asshole, and this was how I dealt with assholes.
Dean, the vigilant peacemaker, seemed determined to end this fight before it began, stepping back, fighting me off and holding out his hand as he tried to reason with me. “Taylor, you’re being ridiculous. We’re not kids anymore. This isn’t the living room where we just simply push back the furniture and wrestle out our problems.”
“The fuck it isn’t,” I answered, taking a swing.
His eyes went wide as he realized I wasn’t standing down.
“Seriously, Taylor!” he yelled, dodging me. “Would you take a look at yourself? Do you really think this is normal? If you’d just take a few days and—”
“I don’t have issues!” I roared, my chest heaving as I tried to tackle him, but I forgot who I was fighting.
Even missing an arm, my brother was a beast.
And he didn’t back down in a fight.
Shoving me back, he warily eyed me. “Everyone has issues,” he said, his breathing heavy. “And I think it’s time you come to terms with yours.”
“I told you, I—”
“You have a week off,” he said, his voice firm.
“You can’t just tell me when to take time off. You’re not my boss!”
“I’m not your boss, but I am your partner. And, right now, you’re worthless to just about everyone. So, go—”
“Dean, this isn’t cool. You can’t—.”
“Get out of here, Taylor. Don’t make me call Macon and press assault charges on my own brother.”
My mouth fell open. “You wouldn’t.”
His eyes met mine. “You want to try me?” he asked. “Maybe a night in the slammer would give you an issue or two since you seem to be so free and clear of them.”
A dark scowl took hold of my expression. “You’re an asshole, Dean.”
He shook his head, his breathing still heavy. “That might be true, but I’m an asshole who cares about you.”
“Crappy way of showing it.”
