Page 68 of Silent Ties

I fucking knew it. They’re standing around talking about my wife.

Roma catches me in the doorway. “Oh, dear God.”

Elijah straightens off the counter.

“We are inside!” Roma warns.

The words have no meaning. I punch Elijah square in the jaw. Annoyingly, while his head slams back from the force, his feet remain perfectly rooted to the floor. I shove him onto the tile.

Roma yells at us before sighing and opening the fridge.

“What the fuck were you doing with my wife?”

The blood running down Elijah’s face gives his smile an eerie tinge. “Who knew you’d get so flustered at the thought of your wife eating pizza with someone else?”

“Is that a euphemism?” Roma asks, cracking more eggs into the frying pan.

I punch harder, but Elijah laughs. There’s a gleam in his eyes that should scare me, but the rage in my veins pounds harder.

For an entire week, it’s slumbered inside me. I shoved it down, afraid it’d spew and push Russet further over the edge. The cracked, broken thing currently known as my wife, scares the living hell out of me.

So I did what I always do and shoved down my emotions, not sure of how I wanted to move forward.

The only thing I do know is my brother deserves pain.

Elijah laughs like a maniac but when I hit his ribs, air catches in his throat.

“Hey!” Roma warns.

“Fuck off,” I yell over my shoulder, hand twisting in Elijah’s collar. “You’re making breakfast for this asshole while you’re talking about my wife. Don’t think you’re not next.”

Roma huffs under his breath. “We’re worried about your wife, hence why Elijah called me over here.”

Since birth it’s been Roma and me against Elijah, never the other way around. Since when do they hold emergency talks?

“Why are you talking about my wife?” I pull Elijah’s shirt only to shove him back down.

He slaps at my hand, but I don’t let go.

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” Of all the things I could say it’s the weakest, but the words snap from me. My brother has to stick his nose into everything. I should have seen it coming.

Elijah continues to slap my hand, his words strangled. “I’m worried about you.”

I shove him into the ground, crushing him. “Worried for me or worried for Russet?”

Gray eyes stare up at me, unwavering.

“Come on,” Roma says. “Let him up and lets just talk about it.”

“Fuck off, Roman.”

A bowl clatters into the sink. “That attitude gets you nobreakfast.”

“Baby brother,” Elijah tries to say, tapping my cheek.

It doesn’t matter how many times I punch him, the anger still courses through me. Roma’s the pacifist, but Elijah’s never pulled his punches. I fall somewhere in between, but right now it’s all beast.

“Please tell me how you’re going to explain it. What were you trying to do by bribing your way past my guards?” I fired the whole lot of them. “And getting rid of Olga?”