Page 51 of Down in Flames
James froze with a paintbrush in his hand, staring at him like a deer in headlights.
West ignored him and continued, "It's a lot more fun than watching DPs on the internet, I guarantee it."
James muffled his laugh in his sleeve, but he still sounded like he was choking. West had taken all the blame for the internet porn incident back when he was a teenager, but none of his siblings had been fooled.
"Shut up," Derek said mildly.
Usually, he would. But he was too happy to take the hint. He was taking charge of his own life for once, and if he spent the rest of his life busting broncs and delivering chicken wire only to come home to Michael at the end of the day, he’d consider it a life well-lived. For the first time he could remember, West felt like the lucky one, and he wanted to share it.
“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to give relationships another try,” he coaxed. “Man or woman, it don’t matter, so long as they put a smile on your face.”
“I’m not short on company.”
“I don’t mean just screwing around. Hell, if you found yourself someone to look after, maybe you’d stop trying to micro-manage the rest of our lives.”
Derek’s laughter was full of scorn, and something in his expression turned ugly. “You’re doing a bang-up job of managing it on your own, little brother. I’m the one who’s going to be paying for your funeral when you’re finished pretending to be some big rodeo star.”
West’s blood ran cold. He crossed his arms defensively, then hated himself for it and stuffed his hands into his pockets instead.
“Did Dad tell you that?” he asked.
Derek scoffed. "I'm the one who told him. I travel more than anyone else in this family, and I’ve got more than two brain cells to rub together. You’ve been doing a crap job hiding it.”
“Say what?” James stared at him, open-mouthed. He glanced between his two brothers, and for once, there was no trace of his easy-going grin. “You better be fucking joking.”
“It’s a joke, all right,” Derek sneered.
“God, you’re an asshole,” West said, thrusting out his chin and glaring down at him. It didn’t matter that his brother was still on his knees on the bathroom tile. He’d always be ten times bigger. “What I do is nobody’s business but mine.”
“It’s everyone’s business!” Derek shot back angrily. His nostrils flared, and his pupils were blown so wide that the green was almost obliterated. “We’re the ones who gave up everything to get you this far.”
“I’m sorry, okay? Jesus Christ, you’ve got no idea how sorry.” West dragged his hands through his hair, helpless with frustration. “It’s my fault you had to quit school. It's my fault you weren’t there for Claire when she went into labor—”
Derek cut him off with a vengeful snarl. “Don’t you fucking mention her.”
“Listen to me, Derek! It was awful what happened to her and the baby, but you can’t keep blaming—”
Before he could finish, Derek was on his feet. Fast. Too fast for a man his size, and way too fast for West to react. He caught West by the shirtfront and gave him a hard shove, flinging him through the open doorway. West's back hit the opposite wall, staggering him and driving the breath from his lungs.
It was like getting tossed by Fury Road all over again.
“Hey! Knock that shit off!” James cried, leaping forward and slapping a hand against their oldest brother’s chest. He didn’t have to do much to restrain him, though. Derek’s expression was already full of regret.
“West—” he said tightly.
But West didn't let him finish.
He didn’t know where it came from, the fury that exploded out of him. Maybe it started in his chest where an awful pressure was building. His pulse skyrocketed, and his fists were clenched so hard that his knuckles popped.
He was sick and tired of being treated like his family’s pet, caged and coddled and then blamed for all their failures. His life hadn’t been worth spit before he sacked up enough to defy them, and he’d be damned if he let Derek vent on him for the rest of his life.
The roar that tore out of his throat sounded like it belonged to someone else. He lunged for his brother in a diving tackle, grabbing him around the waist and shoving him so hard that the backs of his knees collided with the tub. They toppled, Derek’s head cracking against the shower head and snapping it off. James yelled, throwing an arm out and trying to separate them, but Derek ripped through his hold like he was made of mist. Cursing, Derek brought up a knee and caught West in the stomach, using it as leverage to create some space between them. West retaliated with a hard right cross to his jaw, shouting at the pain in his pulverized knuckles.
“I said break it up!” Jasper Owens yelled. He was wobbling without his cane and trying to get into the crowded bathroom, but Michael held him back. He knew the old man wouldn’t stand a chance if he got caught in the crossfire. Susan was yelling, but whatever James said in reply was drowned out by the frantic thump of West’s heartbeat. His mother was crying.
Derek glared at him, chest heaving, pulse flickering wildly in his throat. His biceps bulged and his knuckles were a bloodless white, but he didn’t move. He didn’t so much as twitch.
West realized he wasn’t going to hit him back, and inexplicably, it only made him angrier. Or maybe it just broke his fucking heart.