by Carter Blake
Anger. Red-hot and blinding blisters through me.
“You fucking asshole.” I lunge at him, my fist connecting with his jaw before he has a chance to brace himself.
Built like a tank, my punch doesn’t have the same impact it would have on any other man.
Colin stumbles back a few paces, but remains standing.
A woman’s shriek, the screech of chairs sliding back, and chaos ensues as people do their best to get out of our way.
I’m about to take another swing when Colin comes at me, hitting me with the full force of his two hundred and twenty pounds.
My fist lands a kidney shot, and he retaliates with an uppercut to the jaw that leaves me seeing stars. I grunt as my back connects against the wall.
“What the hell is your problem?” He’s got me pinned.
His fists grip the collar of my shirt, and he looks like it’s taking all his strength not to hit me again.
“She’s pregnant,” I hiss, tasting blood.
His grip loosens slightly, and I see it. The guilt. A quick sideways glance, the way his lips purse. There’s no denying it’s his.
“I wanted to tell you. But she asked me…” He shakes his head and sighs.
“To what?” I shrug him off, then push him away. “She asked you to what? Keep it from me?”
With a small shake of his head, he looks over his shoulder, and groans. Multiple people have their phones out, recording us.
Normally I would care. Right now, I don’t.
“You’re a real jackass, you know that?” I spit out.
His eyes narrow on me. “You’re the one who took off. Wouldn’t answer anyone’s calls.”
“I was dealing with some shit.”
“Yeah. You always are, aren’t you?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He stares at me for a long moment, the muscle in his jaw clenching, his nostrils flared.
When he doesn’t answer, I ask tightly, “What are you going to do about it?”
His eyes narrow and his chin tilts down. “About what?”
I have to clear my throat before I can say the words, “The baby.”
“What am I going to do about it?”
I can tell he’s trying to keep his cool because one eye twitches like it always does before he loses his shit.
“You plan on marrying her?”
He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. Just pure, undiluted anger. “No. I’m not going to fucking marry her.”
“You think this is a joke? You think you can just walk away from her? From your child?”
“That’s what you think of me?” He sucks his bottom lip back over his teeth. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
“She deserves better than this, than you.”
“Screw this. I’m done.” He turns and starts to leave.
“That kid needs a father, and—”
“You’re right.” He turns back, and despite the throng of people watching he gets in my face again. “But it sure as hell won't be me.”
“I always knew you were a coward.” I keep my voice low, steady, despite the seething anger that rolls through me. Digging my finger into his chest, I egg him on, “A no good piece of shit just like Dad. The kid’s better off without you.”
He doesn’t come at me like I hope he will. Instead, he stands there watching me, his expression unreadable.
The tension between us is practically tangible. His mouth twists, and his breathing comes out in small bursts, but I still can’t read what he’s thinking. Or maybe I don’t want to because what I think I'd see would gut me if I let it.
Screw him. He doesn’t get to be hurt. Not after everything he’s done. Everything he’s taken from me.
“Here.” Colin pulls the manila envelope from his pocket and shoves it against my chest. “Give this to her. Maybe she’ll take it from you.”
From the heaviness of it, I know it’s cash.
“You think you can buy your way out of this?”
“Yeah.” The corners of his lips twitch up, but there’s no humor in his eyes. “That’s what I’m doing. Buying my way out of this fucked up relationship.”
It’s impossible to miss the sarcasm that drips from each word. The hidden meaning I clearly don’t get.
“You’re an asshole,” I spit out, only wanting to see him as the villain in all this.
“I’m your brother. Maybe one day you’ll remember that.”
He turns and walks away. And I let him. Because he may be my brother, but he’s also the man that stole the only woman I’ve ever loved.
Chapter 2
Kennedy
Sixteen Years Old
“Let me see.”
“Come on, Kennedy.”
The Forrester brothers hover over me, their matching blue eyes full of mischief. Their sole purpose to obtain the small spiral notebook I clutch to my chest.
“No.” My cheeks burn with humiliation with what’s written inside.
“You always make us read your stories.” Liam—or Thunder as he insists on being called lately—sits on the couch beside me and places one arm around my shoulder. Dark, unruly hair falls over his forehead in waves, and he gives me one of his rare smiles. “Why not this one?”
“It’s personal.” My heart beats a little faster at the contact, which is silly because he’s practically family.
Our fathers had been friends since they were kids. And there wasn’t anything my dad wouldn’t do for the man and his sons, including pretty much adopting them after their mother passed away eight years ago.
Liam and Colin would stay with us when their father had to go out of town for work. Now they came by whenever he was on one of his benders.
Like right now.
Steve Forrester is a difficult man to like. My mom insists he wasn’t always so severe, that it was only after his wife’s death that he changed, became the insufferable ass who’s constantly yelling at Thunder, pushing him to be as good as Colin at everything, especially hockey.
Which is ridiculous because Liam is good.
Really good.
The problem is Colin is better. At seventeen, he’s already being scouted by some of the top teams, and will most likely be the first draft pick next year.
Most people think they’re twins because they’re in the same grade, but there’s actually eleven months between them.
Irish twins, my mom calls them.
And with Colin being born in January and Liam in December, it means they’re constantly competing against each other—at everything.
Hockey.
School.
Girls.
To call their relationship volatile is an understatement. I’ve never met two people who butt heads more often than they do. The only thing they seem to agree on is that no guy is or will ever be good enough to date me.
Not that I want to date just any guy. The one I want to date is sitting right beside me.
The one that is completely and utterly off limits.
Forearms already covered in ink, muscles tensing and rippling under his tight black t-shirt, Liam Thunder Forester doesn’t just look bad.
He is bad.
At least for me.
He’s everything I’m not.
Dark.
Dangerous.
And so damn sexy.
He’s already broken more hearts than I can count.
I sigh, still clutching the notebook to my chest. “Can we just watch a show or something?”
“Why all the secrecy?” Colin moves towards me, and I can tell he’s not going to let up. “What do you have in there? Your confession of who you’re crushing on?”
Liam grunts beside me.
I shake my head, but I know the heat that creeps up my cheeks gives me away.
“Shit. I’m right.” One blond eyebrow goes up, and Colin chuckles. “It’s about me, isn’t it?”
I feel Liam tense beside me, then he pulls away slightly, so that he’s no
longer touching me.
“How d'you guess?” I roll my eyes. “Who isn’t in love with you?”
“True.” Colin gives me a dimpled grin, the one that all the girls swoon over.
Everyone but me.
I love Colin. But not like that. He’s the closest thing to a brother I have. I know I should feel the same way about Thunder—but I don’t.
What I feel for him is… complicated.
“Leave her alone.” Thunder stretches back, clearly over teasing me, and turns on the television.
With a snort, Colin sits on the other side of me, sandwiching me between the two of them.
They’re both huge, almost an entire foot taller than me, and neither one has any qualms about taking up more than their share of the couch.
I know every girl in school would be jealous of me right now. My best friend Kiley lets me know at every opportunity how freaking lucky I am to be so close to the Forrester brothers.
What she and everyone else doesn’t believe is that there’s nothing but friendship between us.
I’ve been the subject of some pretty raunchy rumors because of my relationship with them, because of how much time we spend together.
But hell, I still haven’t even kissed a guy. Not really. Not unless you count New Year’s Eve.
Best night of my life.
Who needed fireworks when they’d shot off inside me like a million volts of electricity sparking every nerve in my body when Thunder’s lips had brushed against mine for a millisecond.
It was just once, and he’d been drinking. I doubt he even remembers it happening.
Me on the other hand, I can’t forget—no matter how hard I try. And I’ve tried. Because I know that nothing will ever happen between us.
Ever.
Thunder hates when anyone assumes we’re more than just friends. He gave Jeremy Hudson a black eye and bloody lip last year when the douchebag told half the school that I was having sex with both brothers.
Jeremy was just mad that I kept turning him down, but Thunder saw red, and it took five guys to pull him off the asshole.
He’s always been overprotective with me, which is why I know he’ll never see me as anything more than a friend; or worse, a little sister.
The three of us sit there in silence, watching the stupid football game that Thunder turned on.
I should be studying for mid-terms, or finishing my English assignment, but their father’s been on a four-day bender, one of his more violent ones, and I know neither one of them wants to go home.
With a heavy sigh, I snuggle into the couch, my notebook now thankfully forgotten.
Thunder’s knee touches mine. Barely. But I can feel the heat, the crazy electricity that pulses between us.
I freeze.
Butterflies.
My breathing speeds up and my palms start to sweat.
Get a grip, Kennedy.
Biting my bottom lip, I pray that he doesn’t notice my reaction. But I’m pretty sure the temperature in the room just raised ten degrees, because the back of my neck begins to sweat.
I wish I could go back to the way things used to be, before my body turned into an uncontrollable inferno of hormones around him, but the more I try to ignore my feelings, the worse they get.
Luckily, he hasn’t seemed to notice. And I plan to keep it that way, which is why I continue to clutch the damn notebook to my chest.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“This game is boring,” Colin says, and before I know what he’s doing, the book is snatched from my grip, and he’s jumping from the couch.
“Give it back!” My voice comes out in a shriek.
Colin laughs and starts flipping through the pages.
Fear burns a path up my throat. I never should have written what I did, but my English teacher asked us to make a detailed list of the people that have made the biggest impact on our lives, and what makes them unique.
The people I chose were my mom, dad, Colin, and…Thunder.
“What I like about Colin Forrester,” Colin reads, a cocky smile spreading across his face. His gaze meets mine, and he winks. “I knew it was about me.”
“It’s just an assignment for school.” My skin burns so hot, I swear it’s going to blister.
“Right.” He continues to smirk, then starts reading. “He’s kind. Funny. Always willing to help…”
I jump from the couch and try to snatch the book back.
Colin lifts it above his head and continues to read, “Smart. Confident. A good listener.”
“Don’t be a jerk. Give it back.”
Thunder continues to sit on the couch, not moving, gaze glued to the screen.
“I never knew you thought so highly of me.” Colin winks, teasing.
“Stop being an ass.” I hit his chest, praying that he doesn’t turn the page.
Too late.
His eyes go wide.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
I know what he’s reading, and I want to crawl into myself
What I like about Thunder Forrester:
He’s my best friend
And I’m in love with him
The last line is scratched out, but it’s still legible.
Colin looks at me, brows lifted. “Love? Really?”
“Don’t.” I swallow hard, praying that he won’t say anything more.
“She said give it back.” Thunder jumps from the couch, rage in his voice.
For a heartbeat, the two of them stand nose to nose, the tension between them almost tangible. Thunder’s hands are fisted at his side, and I have no doubt that he’ll use them on Colin if he doesn’t do what he says.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
As light, and easygoing as Colin is, Thunder is as broody and temperamental.
You always know where you stand with Colin, but Thunder hides his emotions behind a mask of indifference, until he’s pushed too far and then you never know what he’s going to do. But it usually involves fists flying.
“What are you going to do about it?” Colin smirks, edging Thunder on.
“You want to find out?”
“Stop.” I get between them, which probably isn’t the smartest move, but I know they’ll be in an all-out brawl in ten seconds if I don’t. With a hand on both of their chests, I try to push them apart, which is really a stupid move considering I don’t even come up to their shoulders. I look up at Colin, who’s usually the more reasonable of the two. “Just give it back. Please?”
“Fine.” Colin hands the notebook back to me, but his gaze remains on Thunder as if expecting him still to strike out.
“Thanks,” I mumble, closing it before Thunder sees what’s written there.
I have no idea what passes between the two of them, but whatever it is stirs an animal-like growl in Thunder’s chest.
Colin just chuckles in response, then places a heavy arm over my shoulder, which only makes Thunder’s face turn a darker shade of red.
“Don’t worry.” Colin leans down, and whispers in my ear, “I already knew.”
Oh. If it’s possible, I swear I blush even harder.
He shakes his head at both of us, then saunters out of the room leaving me alone with Thunder, who continues to scowl after him.
When Thunder turns back to me, there’s blue fire in his eyes.
He looks angry. Really angry.
His nostrils flare, and his mouth presses into a hard line when he glances down at the notebook in my hand.
“What?” I chew on the inside of lip.
“Nothing.” He drops back on the couch heavily.
When I sit beside him he doesn’t put his arm around me like he usually does.
“It was only an assignment,” I mumble. “It didn’t mean anything.”
Did he see what I wrote about him?
“What do I care?” His gaze is sharp and as cutting as his words. “It’s just a stupid crush.”
A stupid crush.
Something inside my chest shatte
rs. And I know in that moment that not only did he see what I wrote about him, but that he’s right, what I feel for him is nothing more than a stupid crush. And in that second, I hate him for it.
Chapter 3
Thunder
Present
Standing outside the rundown apartment, I glance up at the third-story window with its sunflower yellow curtains, and inhale roughly.
I shouldn’t be here. This isn’t my damn problem. But I can’t stop the voice in the back of my head demanding that I go to her. To make sure she’s all right.
A shadow darkens the window, then disappears.
Kennedy.
My pulse begins to race, and I curse myself for it.
She doesn’t want you, asshole.
I drag my fingers through my hair and exhale, then start up the cement steps towards the building.
Pressing the buzzer, I wait, but she doesn’t answer. I press again. Nothing.
I pull out my spare key, the one she gave me when I helped her move into this dump. I know I’ve lost my right to use it, but right now all I care about is getting the answers I should have asked months ago.
Instead, I’d left, went off the grid completely. Because seeing her with my brother, knowing she chose him over me, was like a knife to the gut. A soul-crunching agony that was far worse than any physical pain I’ve ever been in.
The elevator is out of order, so I walk the three flights of stairs. The place smells of mildew and rotting garbage, and there’s graffiti spray painted on the cement walls.
How the city hasn’t condemned this place is beyond me. But it’s cheap rent and with the shit salary Kennedy gets working at the Animal Shelter, I know it’s all she can afford.
It pisses me off that the animals she takes care of live with more luxury than she does.
But she’s too damn stubborn to accept help, even though I’ve offered multiple times.
Staring at the rusted metal numbers on the door, I grind my back teeth and give one brief hard knock.
The door opens slowly, and I see the shock in her gaze when it meets mine.
Dark hair frames her delicate face, falling over her shoulders in waves. Everything about her is perfect, almost fragile in its beauty. Soft, full lips, flawless skin, but it’s her eyes that have always intrigued me. The lightest brown rimmed with thick dark lashes. The color of caramel.
