Page 22 of From the Wreckage

Brielle

Dad sets the breadbasket in the middle of the table, humming under his breath like he hasn’t just walked into a minefield. Joey’s quick to plaster on his golden-boy grin, leaning back in his chair like nothing happened. “This looks amazing, Mr. Kincaid. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you, Joey. And you’re welcome.” His eyes sparkle, a proud smile curling his lips as he turns to me. “Anything for my kiddo.”

I roll my eyes, trying to appear normal. “Dad. I’m not a kid,” I mutter, hoping he doesn’t notice the tension in my shoulders or my stiff spine.

He chuckles, but it fades, turning into a frown when he looks at the table. “Shit. I forgot the butter. I’ll be right back.”

The second he leaves the dining room, Joey starts. “So, Bri,” he says, his tone light but his sharp eyes on me. “Remember last winter when you begged me to drive you home in the snowstorm? You’d be lost without me.”

“I remember it,” Meghan says, smirking.

Heat crawls up my neck. The way he says it, like I’m helpless and should be grateful he saved the damsel in distress. Meghan’s smugness isn’t helping anything.

Everett’s jaw flexes. “She doesn’t need anyone to save her. She’s stronger than you’ll ever give her credit for.”

Joey’s grin slips. His voice is low, meant for me, while his eyes remain fixed on Everett. “You’re only strong when you’ve got someone propping you up.”

Something ugly twists in my stomach. I’ve never seen him like this before—sharp and mean. Not until tonight.

I’m too stunned to say a word.

Everett’s voice is a quiet growl. “Say something like that again, and we’ll have a problem.”

Joey bristles, his lips parting like he’s about to fire back, but Dad returns with the butter, setting it on the table before dropping into his seat, completely oblivious to the tension in the room.

Joey’s golden boy mask snaps back into place so fast it makes me dizzy.

His voice is smooth, easy. “These steaks are amazing, Mr. Kincaid.”

Tom returns from the restroom, and Anita isn’t far behind, a wide smile on her face. “I hope you like dessert. It’s your favorite.” She smiles at me, and I give her a sickly one in return, my stomach churning from the tension in the room.

Dinner carries on, but I can barely taste a thing. Between Everett’s silent seething across from me and Joey’s Jekyll-and-Hyde act, I feel like I’m walking a tightrope over fire. I smile when Dad looks at me. I laugh at Tom’s jokes. But inside, I’m fraying.

When the meal ends, I excuse myself, mumbling about needing to use the bathroom. Instead, I slip out the back door, the evening air cool against my heated skin.

I’m standing by the railing, staring at the lake, when I hear footsteps behind me. I look over my shoulder, frowning when I see Joey.

“What are you doing out here?” I start to walk away, but he holds up a hand.

“Bri, wait.” His eyes plead with me. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” There are so many things he should be sorry for, but I doubt we’re on the same page.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said in there.” He’s standing too close to me, making me uneasy. I take a step back, but he moves with me. “It’s just... You’re too sensitive sometimes.”

His words spark a fire inside me. “Seriously. That’s what you want to say to me? That I’m too sensitive.” My voice gets higher, full of disbelief and anger.

His brows lower. “It’s true.”

I stare at him, realizing something for the first time—it’s not even worth arguing with him.

“I’m done, Joey. This… whatever it is. It’s over.” I try to walk past him, but his hand closes around my wrist.

“Let go.” I struggle, trying to pull free, but his grip is like iron shackles, making me wince.

“Not until you calm down,” he snaps, yanking me closer. Pain shoots up my arm.

“Stop—” My voice breaks, fear sparking in my chest.

I spot Everett behind Joey seconds before he’s torn away from me, releasing me from his grip. Everett’s hand grips Joey’s shirt as fury rolls off him in waves. “Don’t you ever put your hands on her again,” Everett snarls, his chest heaving from repressed rage.

The back door bangs open. “What the hell is going on out here?” Dad’s voice booms.

Everett releases Joey and takes a step back, fighting to regain control. Joey straightens, smoothing his shirt like nothing happened. I clutch my sore wrist, blinking back tears.

Everett’s voice is a low snarl. “He was hurting your daughter.” He nods at Joey. “I intervened.”

Dad’s head jerks toward me. His feet eat up the distance between us, concern on his face. He grips my shoulders gently, his eyes searching mine. “Is that true, kiddo? Did he hurt you?”

I nod, sniffling. “He grabbed my wrist hard and yanked me to him when I tried to leave.”

Dad’s face hardens, his jaw like stone as he turns back to Joey. “You need to leave. Right now . You don’t lay a hand on my daughter. Ever.”

“I—Mr. Kincaid?—"

“Don’t.” Dad holds up a hand, his tone final. “Just leave.”

As Joey turns and walks back inside the house, my eyes move to my dad. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, guilt clogging my throat.

He wraps his arm around me, squeezing me to him. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for. This isn’t on you.”

Inside, Meghan steps into the doorway. “I think it’s best if I leave with Joey.”

I stare at her in disbelief. The words cut deep. She doesn’t meet my eyes as she turns and hurries after him.

Dad mutters something about dessert and stomps back inside, still furious.

Everett lingers, his body a taut line of fury, eyes locked on the doorway where Joey disappeared. Without saying a word, he turns, descends the steps, and hurries around the side of the cabin.

Confusion surges as I take off after him.

When I round the corner of the cabin, Everett and Joey stand there like they’re about to face off.

Joey’s voice carries over to me, floating on the cool twilight air. “This isn’t over.”

Everett doesn’t flinch. He steps closer, towering over him, every muscle tight with control. His voice is lethal. “You’re right. It’s not. You go near Bri again, I’ll end you.”

The silence that follows is as sharp as glass.

And I know, deep down, Everett means every word.