The Grace In Darkness (8 page)

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Authors: Melissa Andrea

BOOK: The Grace In Darkness
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I quaked and my knuckles were on fire. I looked down at my hand, half expecting it to be broken. I

d never hit someone so hard in my life, and it probably would never again feel as fucking good either.

Two of the factory workers were helping Mitchell to his feet and he finally said something.


You

ll regret this, Dare!

Blood covered his teeth and bubbled from the side of his mouth. He spit it at the floor and ran the sleeve of his jacket across his lips and then pointed at me.

I

m going to make you pay for this! I

ll ruin you!

They were dragging him away before he could say anything else, and I realized everyone was staring at me. A few of the women looked terrified and they were covering their mouths with their hands. Some didn

t want to look me in the eyes or at all, for that matter.


Ryland!

Fuck me.

Careless was by my side the next minute, pulling me around to face her. Her eyes went wide as she looked from me to my hands to the blood on my shirt and back to my face again.


What the hell happened? Are you okay?

She pulled on me, trying to get me to focus and answer, but I was suddenly feeling dizzy. I could hear her calling my name, but it was like an echo in the background of static. I pushed her away from me roughly.


Leave me alone, Careless! Just leave me the fuck alone!

 

 

I
filled the small baggie with ice using my good hand and shut the freezer door harder than I should have, and the whole fridge rattled. I pulled out one of the two chairs at the small table in the kitchen and sat down. When I put the bag of ice on my hand, I grimaced. It stung like a bitch and my knuckles had already started to bruise and swell twice their normal size. I could move it so I knew it wasn

t broken at least.

I pulled a can of beer free from the six-pack I bought on the way home and struggled to pop the top with my one good hand. When I finally managed to get it open, it sloshed over the rim and down my wrist. I brought it to my lips, licking the bitter taste from my arm.

And that was how Sebastian found me seconds later. He came rushing through the swinging door before coming to a slow standstill and eyeballing me funny.


What are you...?

His gaze focused in on my hand and his question changed course.

What the hell happened to your hand?

He leaned over me to inspect my hand and the door swung shut behind him. He studied it for all of two seconds before walking over to the fridge and throwing open the door.


It

s not broken,

he said, matter-of-fact.

I lifted my fingers, grimacing, and examined my swollen hand.

How do you know that?

He pulled out a box of leftover fried chicken and rummaged through it until he found what he was looking for. Shrugging, he put the cold chicken leg in his mouth, grabbed a soda and a half-eaten cherry pie from Annie, and kicked the door closed.


You

re looking at the record holder for the most broken bones in the Dare family. I know a broken hand when I see one, and that, little brother, is not a broken hand.

He flipped around the chair next to me and straddled it.

However, that
is
the result of a fistfight. Not the ribs- too much broken skin. Bone on bone contact, so I

m going to go with the cheek, possibly the nose. What happened? Please tell me it was J.D.

s face you busted and not some wimpy intern.

He hadn

t bothered with a plate or silverware or even chewing as he swallowed the piece of chicken and scrutinized my injury. I felt I should have been more surprised that he

d gotten everything but the
who
right, but I wasn

t.

My eyebrows were drawn together as I watched him tear apart the chicken like the true carnivore he was. He looked over at me and his shoulders lifted in defense.


What?

he asked around a mouthful of food.

I would be truly fucking shocked if I

m wrong.


How do you even get laid? Like, ever?

I asked, sidestepping the fact that he wasn

t wrong in the slightest.

His dopy grin rang true to his personality.

Those are trade secrets, Ryland. I don

t hand them out to just anybody.

His teeth tore off a chunk of meat and he shook his head and growled for dramatic emphasis.


I wasn

t asking for pointers. I was actually thinking there

s a group of analysts somewhere just waiting to conduct a study with your name on it.

I brought the beer up and took a sip. It was starting to get warm and its bitter punch was something I had to force down.


I

m assuming the fistfight and swollen hand all tie into the fact that you

re drinking at three o

clock in the afternoon.


I don

t want to talk about it.


I don

t want to talk about it,

he mumbled and mocked.

Surprise, surprise. Ryland doesn

t want to talk about it.

I didn

t feel like listening to another Dare sibling bitchfest, so I grabbed my case of beer and moved to get up from my chair. But Sebastian

s hand clamped down on my shoulder and pushed me back into the seat.


Settle down, little brother. You

re not going to get a boring lecture from me today.

I didn

t respond and he didn

t push it. I sat and drank quietly while he chomped down noisily on his food. The silence didn

t last long, but I never expected it to.


If it makes you feel any better, I heard his face looks like shit.

Sebastian smirked.

Careless.
Of course she would have called in reinforcements.


It doesn

t.

I took another sip and Sebastian knew I wasn

t surprised that he already knew.

I didn

t feel like boasting about what happened. I couldn

t find it in me to regret hitting Mitchell, but a part of me knew I could have handled it better. A very, very small part.


You need to do something to release some of that anger, little brother. Something that doesn

t include smashing in your coworker

s face.


That prick deserved it.


What did he do?


Does it matter?


Fine. Regardless of that fact, you don

t want to spend a couple nights in jail.


A Dare spend a couple nights in jail? Don

t be stupid,

I said harshly.


You

ve really got this whole douche bag asshole act down, don

t you?


Are you going to cry like Careless now?

I was pushing him, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Sebastian

s fists clench against the table.

Put those away,

I said, nodding toward his hands.

You

re not going to need them. I

m leaving.

If I didn

t want an actual broken hand, I knew I needed to walk away now. I stood up and shuffled through the kitchen door.


Maybe you should lay off Careless a little, Ryland,

Sebastian said, following me into the living room.

I know what she did was fucked up. But I think she knows that too.


Stay out of it, Sebastian. You

re right there on my shit list too.

I stuffed the cans of beer under my arm and grabbed my keys.

Sebastian caught my arm and jerked me back.

Are you ever going to get over that?


No, Sebastian, I

m not!


You

re being really selfish, Ryland. Look, I get why you

re upset. I really do. You loved her. I get that. You wanted to take care of her, but whether I helped her that night or not, she was going to leave and there was nothing you could do to stop that. At least nothing short of keeping her here against her will, and that

s what you would have done if you convinced her to stay. You know I

m right, damn it!

So what if I knew he was right. It didn

t change a fucking thing. I was miserable and I wanted Araya. I wanted her with me, next to me, under me, and I wanted her for forever.

He saved me from having to say anything as he kept on talking.


Come out and fight with me tonight. You need an outlet.


Okay.

I didn

t even think about my answer. Otherwise, I would have talked myself out of going.


Come on, it

ll be good for you- Wait, what?


I said ooo-kay. I

ll go.

I threw the keys back on the table and sat down, opening up another beer.

This should be interesting.

 

 

 

 

It was close to ten when Sebastian and I walked into The Underground
.
It was crowded for a Thursday night and the maze of bodies sucked the air from the entire room. An instant layer of sheen covered my skin in the short distance from the door to The Soul Keeper.


Come one, come all. The bigger they are, the harder they

ll fall, but if you

re quick and built, it doesn

t matter your size as long as you remember only one can take the prize.

The Soul Keeper
rambled on his spew, twisting his hands as he spoke.

So don

t hesitate to throw the first punch because the stakes are high and only quitters... lose.

He shrugged.

So that last line doesn

t rhyme, but you get the point.

The keeper grinned up at us as we approached his makeshift table.

What

ll it be, gentlemen?

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