Page 59 of Off Limits

Big mistake, Brendan. I have to dig my heels in as Lochlyn attempts another push. It’s the first time I’ve ever wished he wasn’t so strong.

"What did you fucking say about my sister?” He’s screaming and pushing toward Brendan. I’m pretty sure as mad as Chelsea is, she doesn’t want Lochlyn beating Brendan to a pulp, which he’s absolutely ready to do.

So I push back, hard. “Okay, kitchen, now. Go!” I shove him as hard as I can, which won’t actually move him as he’s built like a brick wall, but he at least stops trying to get to Brendan, meeting my eyes for the first time. “Kitchen.” My voice is lower.

His shoulders lower and his muscles relax the slightest bit, and he turns to walk into the other room. My hands remain at his back in case he changes his mind. Just before we’re out of sight, he flips around and points at Brendan. “I’m not through with you.”

“Lochlyn!” I push him into the kitchen.

Flipping around, running a hand down his face, he slams his hands on the counter. A light bead of sweat drips down my back and my breaths are shallow from pushing against him, glad he’s in my corner if I ever need protection. “What the hell happened in Killington?” His voice is quiet, strained.

“I don’t know. I’ll find out.Stay here.Do not, and I mean it, donotgo back into the living room. I’m not fucking around, Lochlyn. Stay here.” My tone is very firm—he needs to know I’m not messing around.

“I’m going to kill him.”

“You’re going to let me talk to Chelsea and find out what happened. Then I’ll let you know if you can kill him.”

“Promise?”

I wrap my arms around his waist, pressing myself to his back. “I promise that if I deem it’s bad enough, I will let you at him.”

He sighs, putting his hand over mine. “I need a drink.”

“I’m going upstairs. If I have to come back down and break up a fight, it’s not going to be good for you.”

“I will stay here. Be fast.”

Kissing his back, I walk out as he opens the fridge.

I barely look at Brendan as I walk past him, but I’m happy he’s still here. “Do not leave this spot,” I say to him through gritted teeth while pointing at him. I may be relatively meek with Chelsea, but other people know I don’t mess around when I mean business.

After taking the stairs two at a time, I find Chelsea on her bed hugging a pillow, tears silently running down her face. Whatever happened, it was big. Chelsea rarely cries.

“Hey. What happened?”

She sniffles. “We had a fight.”

When she’s upset, she’s almost like a wild animal, easily startled. I move very slowly through the room to sit at the foot of her bed. “About what?”

“Stuff.” Helpful.

“Chelsea. What happened?” I try again.

She sighs and sits up, pillow falling to her lap. “I thought I was pregnant.”

I have to control my reaction, not wanting to startle her or have her shut down on me. But on the inside, I’m having a conniption. “Okay. Are you?”

“No, Shay, I said I thought Iwas,” she snaps at me.

“Hey, calm down. I’m just checking. So, you thought you were pregnant. How did things escalate?” And why didn’t you tell me?

She takes a deep breath. “We were in our room after we’d had dinner. There were kids next door being loud, and he got frustrated. Said something about how they’re annoying, and he hates when parents let their kids ruin it for everyone. And I got mad. I started yelling at him. And it just came out.”

“Okay, take a step back for me. Tell me about the scare.”

“A few weeks ago.” A fewweeks? And she hadn’t told me? Ouch. She twists the knife she stabbed me with a few minutes ago when I realized she hadn’t told me. “I was late. I’mneverlate. Like clockwork. Not to mention, ya know, the pill. But I had forgotten to take it a few times that month. It had been five days when I was going to suck it up and get a test, when my period started. But I was so scared for those five days that I was pregnant.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” My voice comes out low. Hurt.

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