Page 128 of Things We Hide from the Light

“Pointy elbows,” she explained.

“I got them from my dad. Most of his body parts are sharp and pointy,” Melvin announced. “So about those nuggies…”

I shoved Melvin at Grave before I was tempted to jam one of my elbows into his face. “Do me a favor and take care of this. I’ll deal with the paperwork.”

Lina looked like she was about to laser me in half with her eyes.

“I have to make a call,” she said and stalked out into the hallway.

“Got a pretty good limp,” Grave observed as if I hadn’t already cataloged her every move.

By the time Lina came inside, hiding her limp as best she could, I had her paperwork ready.

“This is for Murtaugh,” I said handing the first slip over. “And this is for you.”

She took the second slip of paper and then gave me the heated death stare. “A speeding ticket? You’re joking.”

“Pulled you over going fourteen over the limit,” I reminded her.

She was so mad she sputtered. “You…you…”

“You’ve got two weeks to pay it or contest it. Though, if you’re thinkin’ about fightin’ it, I wouldn’t. Seein’ as how I was the one who pulled you over and I’d have no qualms about taking a day off to sit in traffic court.”

She took a deep breath and, when that didn’t seem to calm her down, sucked in another one. Fury radiating off her, she pointed at me and shook her head before backing through the door.

“You sure you know what you’re doing there, Chief?” Grave asked.

“No fucking clue, Hopper.”

Instead of going homewhere I didn’t trust myself to leave Lina alone, I took my bad mood out of town. My tires kicked up a cloud of dust into the night sky as I sped down the dirt lane. The lights were on in the big house, so I slammed on the brakes and got out of my vehicle.

I stomped up onto the porch and pounded on the front door until it opened.

“Christ. What the hell is—?”

I didn’t give my brother the chance to finish his sentence. My fist connected with his jaw and snapped his head back.

“You fucking fuck!” he snarled.

One punch didn’t feel like enough. I was happier than a pig in shit when he barreled into my gut with his shoulder. We went flying, smashing through the porch railing and landing on a leafy bush.

I kneed him in the general vicinity of the crotch and flipped over to get on top of him.

He let me land another punch to his face before sneaking one past my defenses. I tasted blood and anger and frustration in a delirious cocktail.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he demanded as I smashed his face into the shrubbery.

“You left her alone to handle a criminal.”

“Jesus Christ, you idiot. Did you get a look at him? Lina eats guys like that for breakfast.”

“He fucking hurt her.”

I landed a jab to his ribs. My brother grunted, then rolled me off him with some fancy leg sweep move.

He grabbed me by the hair and bounced my face off the mulch. “Hebruisedher. You’re the asshole who hurt her.”

I threw an elbow over my shoulder and felt it connect with his jaw.