Revive (Storm MC #3)

I wanted to knock the shit out of this motherfucker.

And I tried. I ripped him off her, spun him around and shoved him to the ground. A moment later my fist connected with his face and I punched him so hard that blood flew onto the carpet. I continued my assault, oblivious to the world around me. All that mattered in that moment was my uncontrollable urge to make him hurt. I pummelled him with punch after punch. What Carla was doing with a dickhead like him was beyond me. And for him to fucking smirk at me like that just proved to me that he wasn’t worthy of her. I knew his type. And hell would fucking freeze over before I allowed my sister to give herself to someone like him.

“Nash!”

My arm stopped mid-punch and I looked up to see my mother standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. She was pissed off.

Fuck.

Pissing my mother off was not a good move, and doing it on Mother’s Day was a really fucking bad move.

Begrudgingly, I straightened. I divided my attention between my mother and the asshole on the floor. My pleasure at seeing him almost unconscious was short-lived when both my mother and Carla started ranting at me.

“You can be a real asshole, Nash,” Carla fumed, her face clouding with anger. She tried to shove past me to get to her boyfriend.

Jesse.

Who the fuck names their son, Jesse?

I blocked her attempt, holding my arm out to keep her away. At the same time, Jesse groaned and caught my attention. His face was covered in blood; I’d probably broken his nose.

He deserved it.

Motherfucker.

I twisted my head to look at Carla. “What the fuck are you doing with him again?”

“That is none of your bloody business.” Quick tempers ran in our family and hers flared up instantly.

“Like hell it isn’t.” I slashed my hand in front of me in a circular motion, pointing to my mother and other sister, Erika, who were glaring at me. “It’s all of our business after what he did to you the last time.”

Carla sucked in a breath, but her anger didn't dissipate. “I’ve forgiven him and you need to let it go.”

I shook my head. “No fuckin’ way, babe. And you need to have more self respect.”

Hurt flashed across her face, but she covered it quickly. My sister was good at hiding her pain from the world. Christ, my whole family was good at that shit. She took a step back; it looked like she was getting ready to flee. Another thing we were good at; running. “Nash, I’m a twenty-two year old woman, for God’s sake. I’m old enough to make my own decisions. I don’t need you stepping in with your fists to sort out my life. You should spend your time and energy sorting out your own shit rather than screwing your way into oblivion and getting in my face.”

“Enough!” my Mother finally stepped in. “Nash,” she pointed towards the hallway, “Kitchen. Now.”

I scowled at the room. How the hell had this become my fault?

At that moment, Jesse pushed up off the ground and turned on me. “You’re a dickhead, Nash, and you’d better watch your fucking back.”

His face was a wash of blood and that made me fucking ecstatic but he had to be hallucinating if he thought I needed to watch my back. I shook my head at him and his naivety. My rage hadn’t calmed though, and I decided it was best to walk away from him now. For my Mother. It was Mother’s Day after all. But I stepped into his space one last time. “You fuck with my sister again and a broken nose will be the least of your problems.” We glared at each other for a moment, hostility churning between us, and then I stalked out of the room.

***

“What’s up your ass today?” Erika asked as she entered the kitchen. Just over five feet of fierce female energy packaged in the softest and most feminine looking woman I’d ever seen. Erika was one woman I didn’t mess with. She’d retrieved the groceries I dropped and thrust the bags at me while hitting me with a dirty look.

“You can’t tell me you’re happy that Carla’s back with that dickhead,” I muttered.

“No, but it’s her life, Nash. At some point you’ve got to stop being the overprotective older brother and give her the space to make her own choices.” She raised her hand at me as I opened my mouth to reply. “And you’ve got to let her fail.”

“Fuck that. I don’t want her to fail.” My eyes narrowed on her. “Why would you want her to fail?”

She sighed. “I don’t want her to, but it’s how we learn in life. You know that. Shit, with all the screw ups you’ve made in life and all the shit you’ve been through, you know that failing teaches us how to be better; how to do better.”