I slammed my front door behind me. “That absolute fucking NUTJOB!”
I tore into the kitchen and picked up a mug from the table. “Why does he always do this to me!?”
I threw it against the wall and watched it shatter. “I fucking hate you, Brooks!”
“No, you really don’t.”
The sound of Porter’s voice caught me so off-guard that I screamed. I shrieked and I whipped around before my voice gave out completely. One second, I was alerting the entire city as to what just happened. And the next second, I couldn’t speak above a harsh whisper.
So, I walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that.”
I tossed a bottle of water to Porter, but all it did was fall to the floor. The man didn’t even move to catch it, and that caught my attention.
“You okay?” I asked.
His eyes narrowed. “Does it look like I’m okay?”
I sighed, closing the refrigerator. “Look, I know things get heated between my brother and me. But—”
“He shoved you to the ground.”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah, he did.”
He finally moved to pick up his water bottle. “Take a few swigs. Get your voice back.”
I opened the bottle and started chugging. I gulped it down so quickly that I didn’t even register the sand I swallowed with it. It felt gritty going down the back of my throat. It burned and scraped its way down my most sensitive of skins, reminding me of what really happened.
Reminding me that my brother physically shoved me to the ground.
“I hate him for what he’s done,” I whispered, tossing the empty water bottle into the sink.
Porter snickered. “Nice toss.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I guess.”
He walked over to me. “Are you okay, though? Are you bleeding? Do you have any bruising?”
I scoffed. “Is that all anyone cares about around here? Physical wounds?”
Porter stayed silent as my mouth ran off with me again. “Is the only thing around here of importance the physical shit? Sex, bruises, and whether or not someone physically cut someone else open? What about mental health, huh? Or spiritual health? What about my emotional health, Porter? Does any of that matter?”
“Of course, it matters.”
I pointed toward the front door. “Then why the fuck doesn’t it matter to him?”
I wasn’t yelling, but my voice was harsh. The vitriol that spewed from my lips caused Porter to take a step back, and it broke my heart.
“I’m sorry. I just—”
I took a step toward him, but he kept taking steps back.
“Porter, what are you doing?” I asked.
My mind ran away with me as his gaze held mine. Was this it? Was he really about to choose his friendship with my brother over me? After all the unspoken years of lust and love—after watching Brooks shove me to the ground—he was going to take a place at his side over mine?
He isn’t the man I think he is if he makes that decision.
“Just say something, please!” my voice squeaked.
He nodded to the fridge. “Get another bottle of water.”
My head fell back with a groan. “Fuck the water, Porter. I’m not concerned about my voice.”
“I am.”
My head snapped upright. “Well, stop, because that’s not what’s important right now.”
“It is to me. Is what I want not important?”
His words stopped me in my tracks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”
But the guard over his face still didn’t come down. “Just get some water and—”
“Will you stop bossing me around? You sound like Brooks.”
“I’m just trying to get you to do what’s best for you.”
I shook my head. “What’s best for me is for someone in my fucking life to listen to me for once.”
“And I am listening. To you blow your damn vocal chords.”
“Why did you follow me home anyway?”
He tilted his head. “Is the reason not obvious after everything that was said back there?”
“Then, why are you acting like this?”
“Like what?”
I scoffed. “Oh, get real, Porter. You came in guarded. You’ve shut me out. You keep backing up whenever I move toward you, so even if I wanted to hug you or seek solace, I can’t currently do that. Don’t be like my brother. Don’t act like you don’t know what’s happening. Is this you trying to distance yourself?”
He furrowed his brow. “You really think a lot, don’t you?”
I lunged toward him. “Yes or no, right now. Is this you pulling away so you choose Brooks over me?”
His darkening eyes pierced right through me. “And why do I have to choose?”
I turned my back to him and went to go retrieve some more water. “I figured this would happen. I figured your words were too good to be true.”
He approached me from behind. “Answer me. Why do I have to choose between you two?”
I turned around with water in my hands. “Because right now, that’s how it is.”
And he blocked me against the fridge. “Because you and brother think it has to be that way. But it doesn’t. I do have a choice. I could choose both of you. Or I could choose neither of you.”
I opened my second bottle of water. “So, which is it? What’s it gonna be, tough guy?”
I knew I wasn’t playing fair. I knew I was putting Porter in an unfair position in the first place. But what the hell was I supposed to do? Any man who could even want to take the side of someone they just saw shove a woman to the ground wasn’t a man at all. He was a coward. And I knew Porter wasn’t that. I knew he was angry. I knew he was trying to impartial. But his over-rationalization wouldn’t make up for my brother’s lack of it.
And damn it, Brooks always got what he wanted. Why couldn’t I get what I wanted just once? I always had to compromise, even from the time we were children. Brooks got to run around like a hellion, and I was spanked every time I slurped my fucking soup!
What century were we in, anyway?
“I should’ve known this would happen,” I murmured.
Porter paused. “What would happen?”
I slipped away from him and chugged more water. “I should’ve known you’d take Brooks’ side in all of this.”
“I’m trying not to take any side, Astrid.”
I whipped around. “And why is that, hmmm? Because you feel you can fix our family? Or because you feel you shouldn’t have to choose because life is all peachy keen and jelly beans?”
His back straightened. “I don’t feel I should choose between two people I adore more than life itself.”
“Well, for someone who respects women, you’re sure quick to want to side yourself with someone who just shoved me to the ground.”
“He’s just heated. He’s confused, and he’s going through a lot.”
“And I’m not!?”
He clenched his teeth together. “That’s not what I said.”
I threw my hands out at my sides. “It’s what you implied! Poor wittle Brooks, all lost and confused and brooding. Poor, poor him. Well, what about poor Astrid, huh? What about poor Astrid, the sister he left behind to clean up her mother’s puke? What about poor Astrid, the girl he left behind to fend for herself without so much as a weekly phone call? What about poor Astrid, the one he left behind to suffer and rot while he ran like a bitch the second he could? Huh? What about that?”
His voice rose. “We’ve all been through hell, and Brooks has been through some of the most.”
“Pain is relative, Porter! Pain isn’t a scale, but a feeling interpreted based on one’s life experiences. So, if the worst thing I experienced in my life was my dog dying, then it would be a monumental source of pain until something else worse comes along! Get it? You don’t get to compare my pain to Brooks’ and then average it out and have him come out on top. Emotions don’t work that way. Loss doesn’t work that way. And I’m shocked as fuck that you’d even attempt to use that excuse.”
He snickered. “You should’ve been a lawyer, you know that?”
The last of my fucks fell to the wayside. “I knew you’d choose him. Even after all those wonderful words I’ve wanted to hear from you for years, I knew you’d choose him. That club. Those men. That backstabbing President of yours. You don’t care about me, just like Brooks doesn’t.”
His voice grew hot. “I’ve never cared about someone more in my life than the way I care about you.”
I hissed at him. “Then fucking show it, you dipshit. Because your words don’t mean shit if you walk out that door and choose his side after he shoved me to the fucking ground. Got it? That plain enough for you?”
His face fell blank. “Don’t do this.”
“Do what? Tell you the truth? Call you out on your idiocy? Do what, Porter?”
“Do what you’re about to do next. It’s coming, and you know it.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Oh, you mean end things with you?”
His nostrils flared. “Astrid, try to see the other side.”
My gloves came off. “See the other side? Are you serious? That’s all I’ve been told my entire life, and even you know that. ‘Try to see it from his perspective, Astrid.’ ‘Try to walk in her shoes, Astrid.’ ‘Try to understand where he’s coming from, Astrid.’ So, when the hell is someone gonna look at someone else on my behalf and say, ‘Why don’t you try looking at it from her perspective, Brooks?’”
Porter’s silence sickened me enough to blurt out the words without an ounce of regret. “Get out of my house.”
He shook his head. “You don’t mean that.”
I pointed. “Get out. I don’t ever want to see you again.”
“I’m not leaving this house until you calm down.”
“Then, I’ll leave and call the police. But by the time I come back, if you’re not gone? I’ll be in the company of police officers.”
I grabbed my things and stormed out of the house as my knees wobbled and stumbled me along. I’d never been so angry in all my fucking life. I’d never experienced rage, betrayal, and hurt like this before. I slammed myself into my car and cranked the engine, desperate to peel out of the driveway. The tires skidded along the pavement. I flew toward the stop sign before rolling it, pointing myself toward my favorite coffee shop.
Then, I dug around for my phone and called Josie.
“Hello, hello gorgeous! How goes it?”
I sniffled. “Do you have time for a coffee?”
I heard her shuffling around. “Name a time and place and I’ll be there.”
My voice hiccupped. “Thank you. Thank you for being someone I can finally rely on.”
I rattled off where I was going before we hung up the phone with each other. And as I eased myself into the coffeeshop parking space, Josie was already waiting outside for me. I got out of my car and ran into her arms. She wrapped me up tightly and I sobbed against her shoulder. I felt so ashamed, so broken down, and so alone that I didn’t know what to do with myself.
Thank fuck, I had Josie.
“Shh, shh, shh, shh. Whatever it is, we can find a way through it.”
I hiccupped with sobs. “Brooks. H-H-H-He—he shoved me. We yelled. A-a-a-and… and there was a shoot—shoot-out. And Porter—he’s taking Brooks-Broo-Broo—”
She kissed my forehead. “Come on in. Coffee first, talk once you settle down.”
She led me into the coffee shop and she placed our order for us. I didn’t care what she ordered me, so long as it was hot and strong. And after sitting down at a table tucked into a darkened corner, I tried to dry my tears and drink some of the hot, creamy, caramelized goodness.
But it took me damn near half an hour to breathe right again.
“There we go. That’s it. One breath at a time,” Josie said softly.
I reached over and took her hand before sipping my coffee. “It started with a call from Archer.”
She paused. “Who’s Archer?”
“A guy from my brother’s motorcycle crew.”
She blinked. “I’m going to pretend I already knew that, since I feel like we’ve mentioned it without completely spitting it out into the world.”
I snickered. “Yeah, it’s a lot. But Porter runs with them, too. Anyway, I got a call from Archer saying that Porter had been shot. So, naturally, I go rushing to the clubhouse and all hell ensues. Brooks finds out we’re fucking around from Chops, of all people, and—”
“Wait, wait. Who’s Chops?”
“Their President.”
“And how did he know?”
I shrugged. “We didn’t get that far. Brooks couldn’t get off the fact that I had feelings for his best friend and Porter couldn’t stop defending Brooks long enough to talk about it with me.”
“And you said something about being pushed? Maybe?”
I leaned back in my chair. “Yeah. Brooks and I had it out, in terms of a fight. And when Porter asserted the fact that we both had feelings for each other—”
“Awwww?! He has feelings for you?”
I rolled my eyes. “I thought so, but after all that shit came out Brooks shoved me to the ground, cut me up pretty badly, and then Porter followed me home after the argument and defended my brother’s actions. Or at least tried.”
She gawked at me. “You’re fucking kidding. Porter? I would’ve thought he would’ve beat Brooks to a bloody pulp.”
“Not when you’re family, I guess.”
“But you’re also family.”
I scoffed. “You wouldn’t know it by hanging out with Brooks.”
She slid her foot against mine underneath the table. “I’m so fucking sorry, Astrid. You deserve so much better from them. From people in general.”
“You know, I told Brooks about that car accident. How I left him three voice messages while I was in the hospital.”
“And the text messages. You kept messaging him, too.”
I nodded slowly. “You want to know what he said?”
She puffed out her cheeks with a sigh. “Oh, boy.”
I leaned forward. “He acted like he didn’t even know I was in the hospital.”
She snorted. “You’re joking.”
I shook my head. “Dead serious. He acted like he didn’t know shit about it.”
“What the hell has happened to your brother? Was he always like this?”
I shrugged. “Not this bad, but still the same kind of thing. Always passing me by. Never calling to check on me. Taking the easy way out. Always running away instead of staying to fix shit. Him and Raven will never work out if he doesn’t fix his problems.”
“Poor girl.”
“Yeah, and he’s one to talk. Raven? The girl he’s apparently with? His best friend’s widow.”
Her eyes bulged. “What a goddamn hypocrite.”
“Right!? And he wants to call me out for betrayal! He’s shackin’ up with his dead best friend’s fucking wife! But do you hear me saying anything about it? No, because what do I want? For that fucker to be happy. After everything he’s done, I still only want his happiness.”
“He doesn’t deserve you.”
My eyes lined with tears again. “None of them do.”
And yet, all I wanted was to be relaxing against Porter’s body instead of sipping coffee and wondering whether or not he had vacated my property.
“Your phone’s lighting up in your purse,” Josie said.
Her voice pulled me from my trance and I looked down. “It’s Porter.”
“You want to answer it?”
I wanted to, sure. But was it a good idea to answer? Of that, I wasn’t so sure.
“Nah, I’m good,” I murmured.
But when the call went to my voicemail, I saw I had three missed phone calls.
All from Porter.
“He’s probably just confused. He has feelings for you, but he feels he has loyalty to Brooks. It’ll take some time for him to sort through that,” Josie said.
Her voice faded into the background as my phone lit up again with Porter’s name.
“Yeah, maybe,” I said mindlessly.
“I really think you should pick that up, though.”
I swallowed hard. “You think?”
“I mean, you’re practically staring it down. I think you want to pick it up, and I think you should. It’ll give you and Porter a chance to talk, but not face to face. Maybe that’ll help cool things down.”
I finally looked away from the phone. “No. I’d just start yelling again.”
She took my hand from across the table. “Then, enjoy your coffee with me, go on a long drive, then prepare to settle in for a night of talking. Because if you really want to be with Porter like I think you do? Talking is the only way to get there.”
And I knew damn good and well that she was right.
