Page 31 of Sinful Mafia Santa

“And after we got home?”

I shrug helplessly. I don’t want to tell him about all the times I huddled in Gage’s shower, waiting for Logan to head out to practice or a game. He doesn’t need to know I spent an entirenight in Gage’s closet when the rookies were here for pizza, because I was afraid some drunk newbie wouldn’t wait his turn to piss in the jacks down the hall. “Here.”

Logan scowls. “Here? And I didn’t have a clue?”

“We were quiet,” I try to explain.

“What did you do?” Logan snarls at Gage. “Gag her?”

Neither of us answers. Logan’s face flushes crimson. “Yougaggedmy little sister?”

“I—” I try to explain.

“You motherfucking, cocksuckingcunt!”

Logan’s knuckles split Gage’s lip. Gage fires back, pummeling my brother’s torso. Logan grabs his hair and kicks at the back of his knee, and they land like elephants in a waterhole.

This isn’t a hockey fight. This isn’t slipping and sliding on the ice, landing a few sharp punches before a ref pulls them apart.

This is two grown men, doing their level best to kill each other.

“Stop it!” I scream. “Logan! Gage! Goddammit, both of you!”

I see a chance and I seize it, diving between the pair of them. I throw myself across Gage’s chest, flinging my arms wide to block Logan’s next blow.

My brother cocks his arm and aims his bloody knuckles. “Get out of the way, Aeryn.”

I’m breathing too hard to choke out a word.

“Get out o’ the fuckin’ way,” Logan growls.

Gage is struggling beneath me. He’s winded. Logan’s done some damage.

“Jesus Christ,” Logan finally swears. “The pair o’ ya deserve each other.”

He turns on his heel, staggering a couple of steps before he regains his balance. Swiping a hand over the coffee table, he comes up with his phone. He sneers at me from the door. “Getyour arse out of here by the time I get home tonight, or I’ll tell Da.”

Logan slams the door hard enough to crack the glass in its window. I roll off Gage. He lies there for a minute, breathing like a stallion. He groans when he lurches to his feet.

“I’ll drive you to the train station,” he says.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Just until your brother cools off. We play New York on New Year’s Day. You and I can talk to him after the game.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“He doesn’t make idle threats. When he goes to your father?—”

“I’ll tell Da I’m a grown woman. I get to make my own choices. This isn’t South Side business. You don’t have to be afraid.”

“Jesus, babygirl,” Gage sighs. “I’m not afraid. I want to do what’s right for you.”

“Staying is right.”

He shakes his head. But then he looks at his watch. “I have to get to the game. We’ll talk about this when I get home.”

“You can talk. But I’m not leaving.”