Rage

The anxiety bouncing off Lucas as the elevator travels up toward our penthouse apartment is unmistakable, and I can’t help but feel guilty that I helped create that for him. Cole can sense it too; his eyes are filled with pity, and they keep drifting toward him followed by a childish glare in my direction, letting me know I caused this whole fucked-up situation.

I refuse to acknowledge the fact, instead resting lazily against the wall until the elevator comes to a stop. I push off and head toward the door.

“Cole. Cole, I . . .” Lucas attempts to speak to Cole, but his words are lost, and he doesn’t manage to formulate a sentence. His face is ghastly pale, making me for the first time think there’s more to his behavior than meets the eye.

Cole grips Lucas by the neck, pulling him in so his forehead rests against his. It doesn’t look like a lover’s embrace, so I watch on.

“It’s okay, brother. We got this.” Cole grins, but Lucas shakes his head, refusing to listen.

I choose to ignore their little tiff and open the apartment door. The first thing to fill my nostrils is something of nostalgia, but I can’t quite place what it is‍—‍something Italian smelling‍—‍making regret hang heavily in my stomach when I realize the effort my brothers have gone to for my homecoming. They know Italian food is my favorite.

Cole pushes past me. “Rage, this is Tia. Our Tia.”

I turn toward him, and my eyes instantly clash with those so familiar to me, my heart feels like it’s being ripped from my chest. I can’t breathe, and my mind floats somewhere so high I can’t reach it. My legs weaken as my chest tightens, air sucked so forcefully from my lungs, I lose all power and drop to my knees on a deafening wail.

It takes me so long to realize it’s not my wail. Not my voice. It’s hers.

The same one I drove away from five years ago. The same voice that ripped out my heart and shredded it to pieces, leaving it so mangled, not another living soul could get close enough again.

“Lucas? Lucas, what the hell’s happening?” Cole is crying above her, but I can’t move. My head is dropped to the ground, and my fists are balled tight as I kneel on the floor, shutting out everything around me.

This can’t be real. This can’t be her.

With them?

My head suddenly snaps up at the realization.

She’s with them.

Rage fills my body, anger like nothing before. I see red, red so fucking deep there’s never going to be enough blood to drain from their bodies.

I fly toward Cole. He’s cradling her in his arms. He’s cradling what’s mine.

Mine!

Lucas tackles me to the ground; he’s so quick, I forgot he was even here.

“Take her to the spare room. Now!” he screams toward Cole, who rushes away with my girl.

I hit his jaw with a satisfying crack, then throw my head back and slam it against his nose. I ignore his words and his grunts of pain when I hammer my fist into his chest.

I want her back. I need her fucking back here with me where she belongs.

Mine.

I wrap my legs around his body and use them to throw him off me, quickly jumping to my feet. I rush toward the corridor, but Cole stands there, his eyes mirroring mine, fierce with rage.

I spit blood from my mouth.

“What the fuck are you doing, Rage?” He glares at me like I’m a psychopath, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“He doesn’t know, Rage. He doesn’t know.” I can sense Lucas standing behind me, but his words do little to relax me.

“Get the fuck away from the door!”

Cole ignores me. Instead, he looks over my shoulder at Lucas, asking, “Doesn’t know what?”

“I said. Get. The. Fuck. Away. From. The. Door.” My voice gets deadlier on each word.

“Doesn’t know fucking what?” Cole’s unraveling. Even I can sense it in my state.

“It’s her.” Lucas’s words sound broken even to my unapologetic ears. I refuse to listen to anything other than the whimpers behind the door.

“Her?”

My fists ball tighter, the blood from my knuckles dripping to the floor.

“Tia.”

My head spins back in Lucas’s direction. “That’s not her fucking name!”

He licks his cracked lip. “It’s her name now, brother.”

The tight band around my last bit of self-control snaps, and I lunge for him once again, slamming him up against the wall with such force the plaster cracks.

Cole’s arm tightens around my neck in a choke hold, but I refuse to give in. I refuse to release the bastard who betrayed me.

“Enough, Rage. Enough!” Cole tugs me back harder, but I let my fingers grip Lucas’s neck tighter. I’m acutely aware that he isn’t fighting, almost accepting his fate.

His lips begin to turn blue, but my mind is so contorted in rage, I refuse to acknowledge anything other than the red haze surrounding me.

I hate him so much.

“Her name’s Thalia. She’s mine.” I whimper lowly as realization dawns on Cole’s devastated face.

I hate them all.


To be continued…

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