Page 70 of Don't Puck Up

“You should go,” Collette agreed, breaking the silence.

“Mom!” Kam snapped.

Dad pushed his chair out, slowly rising. I watched as David, James, and Luke followed.

They made their way around the table slowly, hovering behind me like wraiths. Luke grasped my arm and hauled me to my feet.

“Outside. Now,” Dad ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“No, we talk about this like adults,” Kam said as she stood up, too, and took a hold of Luke’s hand, ready to force it off me if she could.

“Sit down, Kamirah. This is a conversation I need to have with my son, man to man,” he growled, his tone cold.

“You don’t need your other sons there, then,” she clapped back, narrowing her eyes at him. She was all fire, a winged angel giving me strength.

“It’s okay,” I said, guiding her hand away from Luke’s. I interlaced our fingers and raised her knuckles to my lips before brushing a soft kiss over them. “Dad just doesn’t want to have this conversation in front of the kids.”

Luke shoved me, and I glared at him before letting go of Kam’s hand and pushing my chair in. I held my head up high as I walked out the door. I would listen to whatever they had to say, and then we’d leave. I’d done what I came here to do. Now I wanted to talk to V.

twenty-three

Kamirah

Islowly lowered myself back into my seat and watched as Chris walked stiffly around the table and out the back door. His father and brothers followed him out, stopping at the edge of the concrete patio while Chris walked out onto the snow-dusted grass. He had his back to them, his hands on his hips. I watched as he pulled his shoulders back, inhaled slowly, then turned around.

The moment he did, his father stepped forward, grasping Chris’s sweater and practically lifting him off his feet. “How dare you?” his father roared.

“Dad—”

“No, you listen to me,boy.”

I sucked in a breath. That was V’s name for him, not his dad’s. His brothers closed in, narrowing the circle around Chris, and I pushed my chair back to stand up.

I was halfway out of my chair when Dad murmured, “Sit down, Kamirah. Let them get their shock out. Then we’ll talk.”

Chris’s feet were barely touching the ground, his dad’s grip on his sweater tight enough to haul him onto his tiptoes. I couldn’t make out the words being said anymore. All four of them were shouting at Chris, their faces red and spittle flying at him. Chris reached up and wiped his face, and the move seemed to incense his father.

Dad clamped his hand down on my shoulder, holding me tight.

I watched in horrified slow motion as his dad cocked his fist. I screamed as he slammed it into Chris’s face. Chris’s head snapped sideways, his cheek immediately blooming red. But he didn’t react. He faced his father again, his head held high.

I gasped and covered my mouth. “No. Stop,” I cried, trying to escape from Dad’s grip on my shoulder. Why was he holding me down?

Peter let Chris go, and he stumbled backward before straightening again. But the split-second delay had him at a disadvantage. David dropped his shoulder and barged into him, taking him to the ground in a tackle worthy of an NFL game. David threw a punch, and James landed a kick against Chris’s ribs.

I shoved out of the chair, pushing Dad away from me. “Call 911,” I shouted. “They’re going to kill him.” I sprinted to the door, but it was as if I was wading through molasses. I couldn’t move fast enough, the distance suddenly in miles rather than feet.

One after another, Chris’s brothers and his father punched and kicked him. But Chris never even lifted his hand to defend himself.

“Chris,” I screamed, struggling to get the door to open.

Strong arms wrapped around my shoulders and hauled me back. “No, Dad. Stop. I need to get to him.”

Every second more blows rained down on Chris. His face, his ribs. A stomp on his groin. Sounds that weren’t human surrounded me, drowning out everything other than the tortured screams I could hear.

I acted on instinct, V’s training coming back to me.“Step out to the left and drop your weight…. Get out of the hold. With your right hand, you disable. Go for the nuts.”I did exactly what he’d taught me and dropped my weight, then struck out.

A grunt sounded, and Dad stumbled back, knocking into an empty chair. He groaned, but I was already out the door. I screamed a bloody war cry fit for a banshee and shoved James, then stomped down on the side of David’s knee. With morbid satisfaction, I watched his leg buckle as I threw myself on top of Chris’s too-still form, shielding him from their hits and kicks.