Page 39 of Volatile

I leveled him with a single hit. “Fuck off.”

He scrambled up, coming at me. He wasn’t a small guy. He clearly worked out for his roles, but it wasn’t in the intimidating way. There were two types of strong guys: those who trained for it and had never actually been in a fight and those of us who learned how to fight to stay alive. We boxed because we had to. I didn’t believe he’d ever been in a real fight.

I squared up against him, but Aspen came out of nowhere and intercepted him. He didn’t lay him out; he was quite a bit smaller weight-wise than both of us, but he landed harder hits than Arthur could dream of. He cracked him on the jaw and then again to his already bleeding face.

Arthur staggered back, but Aspen didn’t relent. He spit blood as he stalked forward.

I wanted to intervene, but I enjoyed watching Aspen fight. I always had. He was even sexier doing it in those thigh highs. The way he moved his body, so in tune with himself and his muscles.

It was—fuck.

Had I always liked watching him fight?

Shit.

How long had I been checking out my best friend without realizing it? Did I have to go over every interaction we’d ever had to realize I’d always been a little turned on by him? That didn’t make me gay, or did it?

I seethed, remembering what had started this. Fucking Aspen and his teasing. I tried to get in the middle of them, but we were swarmed by our bodyguards and security all at once.

TWELVE

Royal

The cops were called for the second time in a month, and Aspen and I refused to speak to them. We waited for Levi to get there, which might not have been our best choice as he was about as mad at us as Arthur was. He seethed with it as he told the cops we’d come in with our lawyer to give a statement if they needed it in the morning. He gave the whole spiel. If we weren’t under arrest, we were leaving. The cops couldn’t really do anything, as Arthur declined to press charges.

“You broke his fucking nose!” Levi shouted. “Of course you’re going to anger management. That should be the least of your concerns. If he fucking presses charges, you are both fucked. And I’m not even talking about the jail time implications. Think of how this will look to the public after all the stuff with Kingsley.”

“He declined to press charges,” Aspen muttered while a doctor looked him over.

“He could change his mind because of the insurance implications. Or the police could try to force it through. Or it could simply leak. None of this would be good for either of you.”

Aspen wouldn’t look at either of us. His lip was split and his cheek bruised. The plague doctor mask lay cast aside on the floor, and his knees stretched wide open, emphasizing the slits in his cassock.

I forced myself to look away, anywhere but at Aspen, which meant Levi.

He looked like he was expecting me to say something.

“What?” I asked at length.

“What the fuck has gotten into you two?”

I shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit, and since Aspen won’t tell me, I expect you to.”

I stared and then laughed. “Good luck with that.”

Levi pushed to his feet and paced. “Something has got to give. Between the three of you, the band is like a house of cards, and I’m waiting for it to fall down.”

“And what would you like me to do?”

“Stop fucking hitting people.” Levi tore at his hair. He almost looked like he was going to have a nervous breakdown.

I shot finger guns in his direction. “I’ll give it my best go.”

“I’m seriously finding anger management classes for both of you.” Levi already had his phone out, like he could google a place for two high-profile people to do it in secret.

“Okay.”

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