Give Me Hell

by Kate McCarthy

  Leander rolls his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Little Fox.”

  Luke looks at me. My stance is rigid and tension is rolling outward like gamma rays. “Oh,” he says. “Oh shit.”

  “Oh shit puts it mildly,” I reply.

  Leander snatches a packet of cigarettes from the coffee table that rests between us. Tapping one out, he puts it to his lips and lights it. After a long plume of smoke is exhaled, he says, “They’d rather see you dead then let you out.”

  It’s the worst possible outcome. I’m a marked man. Mac could be killed simply by association. Or caught in the crossfire. Apprehension sends jitters through my stomach. Despite trying to quit the filthy habit, I reach for the cigarettes. If there’s ever a time for a nicotine fix, now is it.

  Lighting it, I draw on the end. My chest expands and fills with smoke. It expels past my lips as I speak. “What did Ross say when you spoke to him?”

  “He asked why.” Leander shrugs. “I told him you wanted the straight and narrow. That you don’t want to do this forever and that it’s better to get out now while you’re still young enough to find a better life.”

  “Did you mention Mac?”

  His expression is withering. “No, I didn’t mention Mac.”

  “They shot at her,” I tell them all, my hand trembling as I bring the cigarette to my lips.

  “And she shot back.” Rowan looks at me, shaking his head in wonder. “Your girl looks like some kind of angel, but holy shit she’s got some balls in those panties of hers!” He hoots. “She almost shot me in the junk!”

  Luke’s brows wing up. “She what?”

  “Don’t be dramatic,” I tell Rowan. “She didn’t shoot anywhere near you.”

  “How does Mac even have a gun anyway?” he asks.

  “Because she’s a Valentine,” Luke informs him as if that says it all.

  Rowan is clueless. “Who are the Valentines?”

  “They’re like the Avengers of Sydney. Don’t ever get on their bad side,” he cautions.

  Rowan shakes his head as if he can’t believe it and looks at me. “How did you end up with her?”

  “Really?” My temples begin to throb marking the beginning of a painful headache. “After everything that’s gone down, these are the questions you find the most important to ask?”

  Rowan shrugs and gives Luke a look as if to say “I thought it was pretty damn relevant.”

  “You should see Mac with a gun,” Rowan mutters to him. “It’s hot as fuck.”

  “It’s not hot.” I jab a finger at Rowan with the hand holding my cigarette, furious all over again at Mac’s rogue behaviour. “It’s stupid.”

  Rowan holds up both palms. “Whatever, mate.”

  My gaze cuts back to Leander. “What are you thinking?” he asks me.

  “I’m thinking they all know where I live. If they wanted me dead, I’d already be six feet under.”

  He nods, agreeing with my assessment.

  “Holy Jesus,” Luke moans, clearly stressed. There’s a bottle of Jack on the table and four empty shot glasses. Rowan must have set them out before recounting our story. Luke pours them out and picks one up. Tipping his head back, he tosses the contents down the back of his throat. Hissing, he sets the empty glass down and reaches for another. He tips that back too.

  “Are you okay, Little Fox?” his older brother asks.

  “I’m not sure,” he gasps, rubbing his chest.

  “Can I get you anything? Some smelling salts, perhaps?”

  Luke opens his mouth, spouting his predictable reply, “Get stuffed, Lee.”

  We all chuckle lightly, except for Luke. He’s busy reaching for another shot.

  “What I’m thinking,” I say as I lean down, stubbing my butt out in the glass ashtray, “is that it was a warning. Next time will be the real deal.”

  Rowan expels a sharp puff of air. “Fuck,” he mutters. “What are you going to do?”

  I grab a shot from the table and drink the scotch down in one, quick gulp. Fiery warmth spreads through my chest. “I’m going to have to talk to Ross. Tell him I thought I wanted out but I was wrong.”

  “You know what else you’re gonna have to do,” Leander says.

  All three of them are watching me. I nod, appearing calm. On the inside I’m anything but. Heat prickles my skin as anger and frustration build. Mac is the only thing in my life that matters and I have to let her go. She’s going to deem it the ultimate betrayal. She’s going to hate me.

  My mouth clamps shut before I can roar my outrage. When I eventually speak, my voice is gravel. “I’ll go make the call.”

  MAC

  When I wake in the morning, I’m alone. I roll to my back and fix my eyes on the ceiling. My belly feels ready for another purge but there’s nothing left. I have no fever. No headaches. No pain. No nothing. Then my eyes go wide and I know. I just know.

  I launch from the bed, pitching stomach be damned. I can’t hold this news in for a single second. Jake needs to know. Giddy, I conduct a thorough search of the house. It’s deserted, which is unusual for this early in the morning.

  Goddammit, this is so typical! I’m bursting to deliver the news of my life and there’s not a soul in sight. I walk to the front door and peek out. Jake is on the porch seat in the early light of dawn. He’s hunched over. His elbows rest on his knees and his eyes are locked on the riot of colour across the horizon. Red, orange, and pink blend prettily in the sky as the sun rises on another day.

  The beat of my heart accelerates, and a cold sweat chases the warmth from my skin as I reach for the handle of the door. I’m nervous, I realise with surprise. I don’t know how he’s going to react.

  Jake turns his head as I step out. His eyes on mine are troubled, and he’s cracking his knuckles. An ominous feeling settles in my gut, and my gut is something I’ve always trusted. It’s about last night. I know it is. I went a little crazy but I’ll rein it in. My hand goes to my belly. I have to. It’s not just about me anymore.

  “Jake? What are you doing out here alone?”

  He blinks rapidly and his nostrils flare. It’s how he gets when he speaks of his father, so I know he’s trying hard right now to hold himself together. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  My brow pulls together. “You sat out here all night?”

  He nods and looks away, his eyes returning to the sunrise.

  “Why?”

  Jake doesn’t tell me why. He shakes his head as if he can’t even speak. A heavy beat of silence passes between us. His gaze shifts to his hands. “Whatever you do,” he eventually says, “promise you won’t hate me.”

  Oh god. My stomach sinks and fear rises in an instant, sending a chill over my skin. My voice is an accusation. “What did you do?”

  In the still of the morning, the crunch of gravel reaches my ears. My head turns toward the sound. A car is pulling in the drive. The colour is a deep royal blue with white racing stripes on the bonnet and wheels that could flatten a dinosaur. But none of that matters. What does matter is that I know the car. I know it well.

  It comes to an easy park in the driveway. The engine switches off and the door swings open. I shield my eyes from the early morning sun as Mitch steps out.

  I stare at my eldest brother as betrayal steals my voice. He’s striding toward me, whipping off aviator sunglasses and tucking them in the neckline of his shirt. The action reveals enough raw emotion in his gaze to wipe out a small nation—love, support, and overwhelming relief. They narrow as he gets closer and reveal the wrath of a thousand warriors, and retribution so fierce an ordinary person would fear for their life.

  Hurt and anger swallow me up, and when I take a step forward, my legs almost give out from the force of it. I take hold of the stair railing and turn my head to Jake. His beautiful eyes are fractured, wavering between pain and regret. Good. I hope it chokes him to death in his sleep.

  “You don’t want me to hate you, but that’s asking too much,” I say in a crushing whisper.

/>   His eyes close as if my words have ripped apart his entire world. “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t get to apologise,” I hiss.

  There’s so much more I want to say, but I’m damned if he deserves to hear any of it. Instead, I take a deep breath and lock the pain away so deep inside I vow it will never see the light of day again. “You held my heart in the palm of your hand and you’ve just thrown it away.” My voice is cooler than the arctic, and he flinches at the tone. “If you want a promise from me, it’s that you’ll never hold it again.”

  When I turn back, Mitch is there in front of me. He folds me up in his arms, squeezing so hard my ribs scream in protest. “Mac,” he mutters near my ear, not letting go. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” I whisper, but the word is a lie because I’ll never be okay again.

  “Good.” His voice hardens. “Because I’m going to fucking kill you.”

  I’ve heard the threat a thousand times before, but this time there’s a wealth of hurt in the words. Tears burn. I blink them back. I’m not going to cry. “You can kill me later,” I whisper. “Just get me out of here. Please, Mitch.” My voice cracks and when he draws back to look at me, he nods once, his face pale.

  He was expecting trouble over getting me home and my lack of fight has him worried. “Get in the car.”

  I step around him and walk toward it. I don’t look back. And I don’t breathe. I can’t. My chest is too tight.

  Elijah is standing by the open back passenger door. The closer I get, the easier it is to read the relief in his eyes. “Why did you come?” I ask, reaching the car.

  “I came because I care about you, Mac.”

  I nod. Eli has always been another brother figure in my life. When I go to slide inside the car, he stops me with a hand to the shoulder. “What were you thinking?”

  My jaw tightens as I look him in the eye. “Excuse me?”

  “This stunt was childish, Mac.”

  “I don’t need a lecture from you.”

  His lips mash together as though he’s carefully considering his next words. “You’re right. You don’t need it. But you hurt a lot of people, including me.”

  Elijah’s eyes are pained and remorse fills me. “I know. I’m sorry.” But if I had the choice, I’d still do it all over again. My actions in leaving were rash and impulsive, but they were worth it.

  His hand squeezes my shoulder before letting go, and I climb inside the car.

  Jared occupies the driver’s seat, and Travis sits in the back. They both swivel their bodies to face me as Elijah slides in. I scoot into the middle to give him room as my brothers sit tense, their shoulders tight and mouths pressed in grim lines. They’re expecting me to cause a scene. I want to. There’s an urge inside me to scream until my voice gives out, but I don’t. I’ve been defeated in a battle I didn’t see coming. Now I just want to huddle in a ball and will this hideously painful ache to go away.

  I look through the front window. Mitch is talking to Jake. I don’t know what they’re saying, and I don’t care. Getting out of here is my number one priority.

  “Mac,” Travis begins.

  I cut him off before he gets another word out. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “We don’t care what you want,” Jared adds, his tone furious. “You’re—”

  My brother’s statement is the equivalent of poking an injured bear. I turn my head to look at him, my eyes narrowing to slits. “Of course you don’t care what I want,” I hiss, rejection burning a hole right through me. My gaze shifts to Travis. “Neither do you. None of you do!”

  And Jake least of all.

  My heart squeezes.

  “Assheads,” I mutter, wiping at my eyes. Do not fucking cry, I order myself. Don’t do it.

  “Mac,” Travis tries again.

  I hunch over, hiding my head in the palms of my hands, and burst into tears. My sobs are loud and ragged, their intensity so deep it hurts my chest. Shock fills the car in a thick cloud. I can’t see it, but I feel it.

  Elijah drags me toward him. His arms lock around me, anchoring me to him. “Jesus, Mac,” he mutters as I soak his shirt with my tears.

  Travis leans down and tips my chin up with his hand so he can meet my eyes. “Of course we care. You’re our little Mactard. A fucking Valentine. When we found out you were gone we—”

  “We were terrified,” Jared cuts in. My eyes open to swollen slits and see the sincerity on his face. Then Mitch gets in the front passenger seat. He looks at Elijah, Travis, and Jared in turn, giving them a sharp nod.

  “All good?” Elijah asks.

  Mitch takes me in. The distress on my face is brighter than a neon sign. His eyes turn hard before he looks at them again. “All good.” Then Jared starts the car and we drive away.

  The ache inside grows bigger the further we drive, until the pain becomes so unbearable I feel I’ll explode.

  My brothers last twenty minutes before the lecture begins. I sit there dully, tuning them out as I stare out the window. We hit the freeway and the scenery is a blur as the miles between Jake and I grow bigger, and the cracks in my heart grow wider and deeper.

  “Love is such bullshit,” I mutter to myself, finding my anger. It fills up the hollow ache in my heart.

  “Don’t say that,” Elijah whispers beside me, his hand falling onto my knee in a soothing gesture.

  “Jake can go to hell,” I vow with steely determination, ignoring my brother’s best friend. “I hope he falls face-first in a pile of fire ants. I hope his precious rusty car spontaneously combusts. With him in it,” I add snidely. “I hope—”

  “Are you even listening to us?” Mitch asks, his voice high with incredulity as I mutter away to myself.

  I turn my head. My brothers are staring, and Jared is throwing concerned glances my way from the rearview mirror. The pressure of their censure, along with my compromised emotions, weighs on me like a smothering blanket. All of a sudden I can’t breathe. It leaves me lightheaded and reckless. The sudden lapse of sanity has me blurting out the one thing guaranteed to shut them all up. “I’m pregnant.”

  The words are flippant. A diversion attempt. And I put them out there without giving a single thought to the ramifications. Four pairs of eyes widen like dinner plates, and Elijah’s hand freezes on my knee. Time stands still as they absorb my shocking announcement. Jared clearly struggles the most because the car veers right off the road.

  “Jared!” I shout as we hurtle toward an embankment at high speed.

  He curses wildly and grapples with the steering wheel. Mitch yells at him to brake. Jared jabs at the brakes, but his timing is all wrong because we’ve just reached loose gravel. Tyres spin beneath us and any control Jared has on the car is gone. We begin to skid and the back end flies out behind us in a dizzying circle. My hands grip the headrest in front of me, and I hold on as we spin with a force so strong it steals my breath.

  “Get your foot off the motherfucking brake!” Travis yells.

  Jared does and the car slows but it’s too late. “Fuck!” he shouts. “We’re going to flip over. Everyone brace!”

  There’s no time for panic. It all happens too fast. The wheels lift from the ground with wild momentum. Travis slams his arm hard across my chest, pinning me back in the seat as the world rolls before my eyes. My neck and back jolt with sickening force, and the crunch and screech of grinding metal reach my ears when the car slams upside-down on its roof. We roll again and again, the windows around us shattering. Glass splinters the air and cuts my skin like razor blades. A sharp sliver gouges my brow and blood fills my vision.

  “Mac, close your eyes!” Eli orders.

  I scrunch my eyes closed, blonde hair whipping around my face as blackness descends.

  JAKE

  One hour earlier…

  Mac will thank me for it later. At least that’s what I tell myself as Mitch reaches her side. They hug for a brief moment, her brother muttering something before she pulls back. He looks down at he
r, jaw tight as if he’s restraining the urge to wrap her in cotton wool and carry her away. Instead, he nods and Mac steps around him, reaching Elijah by the car. He’s looking down at her like she belongs to him and I bank the rage with massive effort.

  I force my gaze back to Mitch, watching his eyes harden like granite. I brace and Mitch comes out swinging, though it’s not with fists like I expect. He attacks with words that do more damage than any punch can do. Physical injuries can heal, but words find the deepest part of your soul and they live there for an eternity.

  He steps up on the porch. It brings us to eye level.

  “You made the right call,” he says.

  My voice is like sandpaper. “I know.”

  “You’re not good enough for my little sister.”

  I don’t need Mitch reinforcing what I’ve known all along. “I know that too.”

  “You want to know why?”

  Mitch has a steely look in his eye that Mac gets. It means he’s going to spell it out for me whether I want him to or not. “I know why.”

  “I don’t think you do, so I’m going to do you a favour and tell you.” Mitch steps in my space, nostrils flaring. “My little sister is a lone wolf. Fierce and unpredictable. She’s pretty much untameable, no matter how much my parents try. She has more worth than the rarest diamond, more heart than the strongest lion, and she’s smarter than any of us give her credit for. And here she was, prepared to give all that to you, and you just let her walk away.”

  My head fogs with confusion. “I …”

  His finger jabs me hard in the chest. Twice. “You didn’t fight for her, douchebag. That’s how I know you’re not good enough.”

  I take a step back and fold my arms, brows tight with tension. “I’m doing the best thing for her. We’re too young. She should be home with her parents, shopping with her friends, going to movies, choosing a university out of all the offers she got. She shouldn’t be at some ridiculous finishing college, and she shouldn’t be here with me, pissing her future away. I thought we’d be in agreement on this.”

  “We are in agreement. Coming home is the best thing for her.”