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brITT

A WAR ON MAPLE TREE HILL

M y words evoke rage and emotion a million times stronger than anything I ever expected. Not that I expected sunflowers and rainbows, but holy shit .

The wrath I personally brought down upon my brother is like nothing this town has ever experienced before.

Chaos reigns supreme as Jack’s sisters rally. A militia forms, women storm their castles to collect weapons and prepare for battle.

The men watch on helpless, though they try to talk the troops down.

Izzy flexes her muscles. Literally. She’s going to war with her bare fists.

Tina’s tying her hair up.

Kit’s grinding her teeth at the same time she pulls on comfy jeans and sneakers. She’s going to walk all over my brother’s face, and she’ll laugh while doing it.

And I don’t feel a lick of remorse.

Even my sweet Evie, my sassy student, literally has her new skateboard in hand. I legitimately wonder if she’s going to bash my brother over the head with it.

Then there’s Tink… Quiet. Watchful.

She has no apparent weapons. No muscle to speak of. No long hair to tie up. I’m terrified she might actually be packing heat.

But still, I’m not sorry.

What Alex said to Jack was horrible. I love my brother, I always did and I always will, but what he said was cruel, and he took his big brother duties too far.

I know about Jack, I know about the accident. And I know damn well X was on the scene that day. I know he and Jack formed a brotherhood over tragedy. I know Alex actually likes this family.

His words tonight were horrible and untrue.

“You guys should maybe go to my house,” Tink announces calmly. “Take the babies.”

Evie and Bean slam their hands down on their hips and snarl at their aunty.

“The big girls can stay.”

“Sunshine.” Jon approaches Tink warily. “There’s no way in hell we’re letting you do this. You can’t attack the chief of poli–”

Her fiery eyes tear her husband apart and have him stepping back. “You know what happened last year! We don’t let some asshole come in and throw those words around.”

Bobby steps toward Kit.

We’re all pissed, but Kit is chief of this tribe. You want to stop this war, you need to stop Kit.

“You need to calm down, baby.”

“Calm down?”

“He was just looking out for his baby sister. What he said was shitty, but we’ve all said mean shit when we look out for our own.”

“What if he starts drinking again?” Kit speaks of Jack as though he isn’t even in the room.

He doesn’t seem nearly as mad as he should. He simply sits on the couch, sitting forward, elbows on his knees, knuckles in his mouth. I see the hidden smile and dancing eyes.

“I won’t drink, Kit. You’re being dumb.”

“Maybe you’re just in shock,” she argues. “Maybe this is a post-traumatic thing that Alex instigated. When you come around tomorrow, you’ll get it. Then you’ll get mad, or maybe you’ll wanna drink. Alex will have ruined all your hard work. I’ll fix this for you first.”

“You need to stop, Kit.”

She spins on her brother, then pins her husband with her eyes, and every guy in the room after that. “If you’re not on our side, then you’re the enemy.”

“Fuckin’ drama.” Jon scratches his fingers through his hair in agitation. He points to the youngest Kincaid brother. “Pretty sure I said some shitty things to Jim over the years. ”

“Yeah, and you deserved the broken nose you got for it,” Kit argues. She turns on her heel and walks toward the front door. “If you’re in, then let’s roll. If you’re a coward, you can stay here.”

“Brittany.”

My eyes snap to Aiden’s. The calm in the storm. The sensible and quiet brother. “Is your brother gonna shoot any of you?”

“Nope. But I might shoot him.”

“Suits me.” He turns to his wife. “Have fun. I love you. I’ll see you when you come home. Call me if you need to be bailed out. Don’t let Smalls touch the guns.”

She nods, like he’s her military commander and he just gave her permission to fire at will. Stepping onto her tiptoes, she pecks his lips, then follows Kit out the door.

“Bambie, don’t do this.”

I shrug, and when Annie steps up beside me, I take her collar and let her lead me outside. Like a damn comedy act, we climb into the Kincaid family minivan. A group of badass women, metaphorically wearing leather and packing heat, and we’re forced to cruise around in a damn bus.

Tina drives. Kit sits shot gun. Iz and Tink climb into the back with me, then Bean and Evie climb in next. Annie steps in last and flops on everyone.

Seven women and a giant three-legged dog, all set out to defend their man’s honor.

It would be comical, if I wasn’t so pissed at my brother.

Tina drives through the estate gates and heads toward Main Street instead of across town where my house is. Pulling to a skidding stop out front of Jonah’s store, she jumps out quick as a flash and dashes inside.

Three and a half minutes later, she comes out with half a dozen bags. Opening the long sliding door, she sets the bags by my feet and nods seriously.

“Start loading them.”

I look in the bag to find dozens and dozens of eggs. I understand them, I get what she wants to do with those, but the dishwashing liquid and syringes confuse me. I look up into her beautiful blue eyes.

“Put the soap inside the eggs. Be careful, don’t break the shells.”

“I don’t get it.”

“We smash him with the eggs, then the soap makes shit slippery. Add water and stupid boys, and we’ll get bubbles.”

Laughing, I shake my head at the war making its way to my brother’s house, but that doesn’t stop me from taking out the syringes and passing one to Iz and Tink.

Alex has no clue what’s coming for him.

“Mom, you said shit a lot.”

Tina pins her daughter in the rearview mirror as she climbs into the front. “Babe, you’re a big girl now. You can handle that word. You’ve been saying it since you were two.”

Evie’s eyes dance with giddiness. “I can say shit?”

“Only tonight,” Tina bargains. “Then tomorrow, you stop again.”

“Deal!”

“Deal.” Grumbling, Tina puts the bus into gear and pulls away from the curb. A couple minutes later, we come screaming into my family’s driveway with several dozen soapy eggs, and another few dozen that we didn’t have time to fill yet.

Luc’s bike is gone, but everyone else is still here.

I smile as the blinds twitch, like this is a high stakes hostage situation. Like both sides have high powered automatic weapons, and we all know we’re about to die for a stupid cause.

“Let’s go,” Kit growls.

Fuck me. I might’ve made a mistake telling them what happened.

Kit isn’t here to throw eggs. She’s here to murder the chief of police.

Scrambling out of my seat, I take cartons of eggs – and break at least a few in my haste – but the egg yolk sliding down my forearm is forgotten as soon as Alex opens the front door and steps onto the porch.

“You all wanna go home,” he shouts in his chief of police voice. “Except you, Britt. Get inside.”

“I’m not coming in!” Annie leans against me and lets out a warning growl. Jesus. My brother’s going to die today. “What you said was wrong, X, and you need to own it. You need to apologize.”

“I won’t apologize,” he snarls and slams his hands onto his still loaded hips. “I caught him doing… something bad. I won’t ever unsee that, Brat.”

“What did he catch Jack doing?” Kit asks quietly.

“Um…” I look down at the two small girls, then back up to Kit. “He caught Jack and me… fornicating …”

Tink laughs. “Is that a question or a fact?”

“Fact…”

“Where?”

For half a beat, I wonder if she’s asking where in my body. My face burns red, but then I pull myself together and answer, “At the lookout.”

Tina snorts. “You were caught fornicating … in public? ”

I nod.

“By the deputy?”

I nod again. “Chief.”

“Who just happens to be your brother.”

“Mmhmm.”

“No wonder he’s pissed,” Tink cackles. Stopping when she remembers her role, she turns back to glare at Alex. “You need to say sorry, Alex!”

“I won’t!”

Annie lets out a second growl, louder and more menacing. Her fur stands tall, her body quivers. She’s normally a sweetheart, but I won’t lie, I’m glad she’s pointing her teeth away from me.

Scotch steps out of the house and stops beside X. His lips twitch at our Charlie’s Angels posture – the smaller girls literally stand back-to-back.

“What are you idiots doing?”

“Go inside, Scotch!” Tink calls out. “You know what happened last time you got in the middle of our poop .”

His smile pops wide. “Poop?”

She nods at the girls.

He nods back.

Like, this is all totally legit and okay.

“I think I’ll stay right here, babycakes.” He folds his arms across his chest. “I wanna see this showdown. I feel like we’re in El Paso right now. Are you Dallas or Hale?”

“Last chance to get inside,” she calls across the expanse of lawn between us. “Innocent bystanders are fair game in this war, Lemon Drop. No mercy.”

“That’s cold.” Laughing, Marc steps onto the porch next to the other guys, then Angelo joins them. That’s most of the Powerpuff Girls. I get the feeling Luc won’t be joining us today. “You girls should go home before you break a nail.”

As though synchronized and practiced, we narrow our eyes, and Annie snaps out a dangerous growl.

He’s just become this war’s second most wanted.

Alex first. Then Marcus and his smug smirk.

He’s always been smug. Always abrasive. I love him to bits, but I could stab him in the eye and barely feel bad about it.

“I see what you have there, Britt,” Alex calls out. “You throw a single one, I’ll arrest you all. Wouldn’t be the first time the Kincaids spent the night in lockup.”

Bean gasps and turns. “Mom? ”

Izzy smiles like a deranged clown. “Ignore him, baby. He’s talking crazy.”

Kit turns to me and takes a carton of soapy eggs. My syringing wasn’t very smooth, but considering I did the job while in a high-speed car race across town, the leaking yolks aren’t really all that unexpected.

She turns back to Alex and glares. “Last chance, asshole. This isn’t a joke. You accused my little brother of killing his girlfriend. That shit ain’t funny. That’s not funny teasing. You went too far.”

“I didn’t–”

“Don’t lie, X. I was right there, and so were the guys.”

He sighs. “Okay, I sorta said the words, but I didn’t mean it.”

“That wasn’t an apology!” Kit pegs an egg with lightning fast speed, and has my brother dancing as the soapy yolk splashes along his dark jeans.

“Hey!” His hand involuntarily whips to his hip. “You can clean that up!”

“Make me!” Snarling, she throws a second egg and has yolk splashing along the crotch of his jeans.

His face turns beet red.

“Uh-oh,” Tina murmurs dramatically. “I think you just drew first blood.”

“Good! Asshole insulted my baby brother.”

Turning on his heel, Marcus dashes back inside.

“Oh shit,” Tink murmurs when Kit tosses another egg and hits Scotch’s chest. “Mama bear’s out. We’re all gonna die on this battlefield.”

“Kit!” Scotch calls out angrily “What the fudge? I didn’t do anything!”

“You stand beside him,” she tosses another egg, “means you ain’t standing with us.”

Sliding onto the porch like he’s riding his skateboard, Marcus comes back into our war with the carton of eggs I bought from Jonah’s just this morning. “We have ammo, too!”

“You have one single dozen,” Kit snaps and throws an egg. It slams on the window barely an inch from Marcus’ face. “You’ll run out long before us.”

“This is against the law,” Alex shouts. “This is my damn town. My house! Last chance, Brat.”

“No!” Kit shouts back. “This is our town! You might live here, you might even be deputy, but this is our town!”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Stepping through the splattered egg, he raises his hands in surrender. “Someone call the guys to pick these idiots up. And probably Oz, too. We need backup, because I don’t wanna die when I physically turn you idiots away.”

“Don’t bother calling the guys,” Tina snaps. “This is our war. Y’all issued the challenge. We accept.”

“Issued the challenge?” he snaps incredulously. “You’re on my property! You came here packing… eggs!”

“You hurt my family!”

“And he f–” Alex bites off his words with a strangled cry. He points toward me. “He touched my baby sister, Kit!”

“I’m not a damn baby!” I snap. The welt in his forehead, the mark that came from my epic sauce throwing abilities, leaves me with a warm fire of giddiness kindling in my stomach. “I’m twenty-four years old, X. I’m a professional.”

“You’re a professional?” Taking another step forward, he stops when Annie lets out another snapping growl. Sighing, he looks back at me. “Look at you! You’re throwing eggs at the police!”

“No, dumbass. I’m throwing eggs at my stupid brother!”

“You’re throwing eggs in front of your students!”

I look down at Evie and Bean’s gleeful eyes. They’re eating this up like it’s the most exciting thing they’ve ever seen. God knows the shit they get to witness on the Kincaid estate.

“They’re learning a valuable lesson today, aren’t you girls?”

Evie nods enthusiastically. “Yes, Miss T!”

“What lesson?” Alex asks disbelievingly.

Evie juts her chin forward with attitude. “That we don’t tolerate people talking shit about our family.”

Alex’s eyes go wide. “Did ya hear that? She said shit! She said shit to me, the Chief! She’s a delinquent! Probably gonna be arrested before she’s eighteen.”

“She’s gonna kick your ass before she’s eighteen, too,” I snap. “I’ve seen her kick bigger bullies than you around.”

“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.” He scrubs his hands across his face. “Enough already. I’m sorry, okay?” His eyes come up to meet mine. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I’m still a little raw about last night.”

I take my phone out of my pocket and dial Jack. He picks up on the first ring. “Bambie! Are you alive?”

“Hey. I’m alive.”

He lets out a wary chuckle. “Is Alex?”

“Yeah, hold on, he’s got something to say to you.”

“Oh, shit– ”

“Alex!” I hold the phone out in front of me. “Say it again!”

“Brittany!”

“Say. It. Again!”

“ Fucccccck ,” he groans. “I’m sorry, Jack.”

“Say it louder, X. The neighbors didn’t hear.”

“Brittany Hope Turner!”

“I’m waiting.”

“I’m the Chief of this town. How’m I supposed to demand respect when a bunch of pyscho women threaten me with eggs?”

“Just don’t annoy us and you’re set. Now say it for those of us in the back!”

His eyes flare wider, the vein in his forehead throbs dangerously, and his chest puffs up with adrenaline. His deep breath whistles through his nose.

I’m not sure I’ve ever seen my brother this pissed before.

“I’m. Sorry.”

I smile and pull my phone back to my ear. “Did you hear that?”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing. I’ll be back at your place soon. Bye.”

“Bambie–”

I slip my phone back into my pocket and smile at the group; at the lineup of badass women, at the lineup of already egged men. I wish I could photograph this shit.

“Good, you got what you want. Now get off my property. Brittany, get inside before I call Mom and Dad!”

I snort so hard, I almost blow a snot bubble. It’s like he doesn’t realize we’re not kids anymore.

Turning away in dismissal, I wave him off. “We’re done, anyway. See ya, X. I’ll be home later.”

“Brittany–”

It looks like a choreographed attack. It feels like we planned this down to the second. None of that is true, and yet, five women and two pre-teens spin and toss eggs all at once.

Dozens and dozens of eggs rain down on my front porch in a successive wave and send Angelo and Marcus running like cowards.

Bravely, Scotch and Alex simply remain where they are and accept their punishment for being jerks. They barely react to the oozing egg. The bubbles slide down their legs, but they simply take it.

The barrage lasts a full minute or two, but when we all run out at the same moment, when the guys realize we’re out, they sprint off the porch at the same moment our group of women, two almost-teens, and one dog sprint toward the van and throw ourselves in.

Jumping into the driver’s side, Kit turns the key and has the engine roaring to life at the exact second I shut the sliding door and barely miss cutting poor Annie’s tail off.