Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“Randy, he didn’t do a goddamn thing,” Tate said, extending an arm in front of Liam like people do when they hit the brakes too hard and send their passenger careening forward.
“What the fuck have you done to my brother,” Randy screamed at the top of his lungs as he charged toward Liam.
Liam didn’t have time to react. No time to feel fear or decide whether he should run or fight. Tate dove between them, stopping Randy before he could touch Liam. “Don’t you fucking touch him.” He managed to coral Randy back a dozen or so steps.
“He’s trying to turn you gay. You’re trying to turn my brother fucking gay,” he shouted over Tate’s shoulder. They were nearly the same height, and Randy had a clear view of Liam over his brother’s shoulder.
Liam had no idea what to do or say. His normal cutting tongue and snarky comebacks wouldn’t work here. His heart was so heavy for Tate, and his head spun from the whiplash of what had happened over the last half hour.
Randy continued to scream and rant as he tried to get around Tate.
“For fuck’s sake, Randy,” Tate eventually yelled back in his brother’s face. “He can’t fucking turn me. I’ve known I was gay since I was fifteen-fucking-years old.”
Randy went eerily still. “What?” he whispered, stepping away from his brother.
Liam watched, helpless and heartsick. A few trailer doors opened, and heads popped out, but conflict must be common around here because he caught a few eye rolls, and then the observers disappeared back into their homes.
“Liam didn’t turn me gay,” he said in a more level tone. “I’ve been fucking guys since long before I met Liam.”
“What the fuck?” Randy’s fist came from nowhere, ramming into Tate’s face with so much force that Tate stumbled back.
“Stop!” Liam rushed forward.
“Stay back, Luxe.”
“Luxe?” Randy spat. “You have a fucking pet name for this queer?”
“Randy, I’m queer.” Tate’s voice held so much resignation and exhaustion that it seemed as though fighting this war for so many years had finally caught up to him.
“No, you’re fucking not. This is a goddamn prank.” He threw another punch, catching Tate’s chin.
Liam winced. Memories of when he’d been on the receiving end of granite fists tried to worm their way past his defenses, but he shoved them aside to focus on Tate. Tonight would bring a nightmare for sure, but he’d deal with that shit when it happened.
“Fight me like a man, you pussy!”
Shaking his head, Tate held his arms out to his sides. “Hit me all you want, Randy. I won’t fight you.”
“Goddamn right, I’ll hit you.” The next punch landed on Tate’s nose. Blood sprayed onto the dirt.
“That’s enough,” Liam shouted. “Fucking stop it, Randy. He’s your brother.”
Another car pulled up, and Daryl hopped out with a woman Liam had never seen. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Just caught Tate here messing around with the gay. They were practically fucking in the goddamn kitchen.”
If the situation weren’t so volatile, Liam would have snorted and rolled his eyes. Maybe Randy didn’t know how to fuck because all their clothes had been on and their cocks hidden.
“You ain’t fucking serious.” Spit flew from Daryl’s mouth as he yelled.
Randy swung again, connecting with Tate’s chin. This punch knocked him to the ground.
Enough was enough.
Liam ran to his car, where he kept pepper spray and a taser. After retrieving them from the glove box, he sprinted back to the fight and jumped between Randy and Tate.
“Luxe, get the fuck in the car,” Tate yelled, but it sounded nasal and all wrong.
He activated the taser. “Don’t fucking touch him again,” he growled in a sinister voice he didn’t know he was capable of making.
Randy lurched forward.
“Come at me, asshole. Tate might be too good of a man to hit you, but I have no problem making you jerk on the ground in a puddle of your own piss.” Daryl started forward. “Don’t do it.” Liam swung the taser in Daryl’s direction.
“Get the fuck outta here,” Randy said. “And take that pussy with you.” He spat toward his brother but, thankfully, was too far away from Tate to reach. Liam might have tasered his ass for the fun of it otherwise.
By now, Tate had climbed to his feet. Blood dripped down his chin and onto his shirt. One of his eyes was already swelling shut. Hopefully, his nose wasn’t broken. “I’m okay, Luxe,” he said before Liam could even ask.
Blinking away tears, Liam nodded. The entire afternoon was catching up to him, and he needed to get them the hell out of there so he could take care of Tate before he broke down. “Let’s go.”
They walked backward toward his car, unwilling to turn their backs on Randy or Daryl. As soon as they were seated inside, Liam locked the doors. Finally, he took a breath.