Page 9 of Jig's Last Dance
Maybe.
Jig eyes me with a strange glint in his eye before saying gruffly, “I’ll drop you.”
I’m too weary to argue. I need to get home before Ben loses his mind completely. I just wish I had thought of the ramifications before I agreed.
∞∞∞
The ride home is quiet. Jig leaves me to my thoughts, thank fuck. If I wasn’t wallowing in self-pity, I might be disgusted. I can smell the sour remnants of vomit and alcohol all around me.
Fantastic.
When we pull up to the house, I watch wide-eyed as Ben comes storming out. His ferocious scowl reminds me of my dad, and I’m momentarily caught in a time warp until he wrenches the car door open.
Although my dad was never violent with us, there were times he didn’t even have to raise his voice, and you knew you were in trouble.
The door groans on its hinges, and I flinch, raising my palm instinctively to calm him down, but he pauses when he spies Jig beside me. His eyes widen, narrow, and turn to ice before he pins me with his disdain and says, “You bitch.”
We have our issues, but this isn’t my brother. I shrink away from him and stiffen when Jig growls, “Hey, back off, man.”
Ben’s icy gaze flies to Jig, and he says roughly, “How about you go fuck yourself.”
Jig puts the SUV in park and moves to open his door, but I grab his arm, wincing at the wild look in his eyes. The last thing I need is Ben fighting with Jig or anyone else he’s affiliated with.
Movement from the corner of my eye brings me around, and I cringe when Ben’s fist hits the vehicle beside my head.
Leaning into my face, he says, “So, what? Now you’re fucking one of them?”
His left eye twitches, and I lick my dry lips. My heart hammers painfully in my chest. What’s going on? Why is he so angry? “Ben—”
“Out! Get out,” he barks, grabbing my arm.
“Ow,” I cry, pulling away as Jig growls behind me.
Ben drops me as though burned and looks over my shoulder. His brows furrow. His mouth thins, and he looks at me so coldly that I shiver. “Leave. I’m done.”
With that, he steps back and slams the door in my face.
Shaking my head, I grab at the handle. “Ben!”
Jig grabs my arm, but I pull away. “Get off me!”
“He’s pissed. Give him time to calm the fuck down,” Jig says.
Curling my lip, I wrench away, tumbling out of the truck with a cry when my palms meet pavement. But Ben’s already closing the door, and I stare at the wood blindly.
What the fuck just happened?
Jig appears around the truck, pulling me up and grabbing my hands with a frown. “Are you okay?”
“No,” I mutter, pulling away. “I’m not okay.”
“Alice—”
“Just go,” I say, rubbing my chest. Fuck me.
What did I do?
“Alice, I’m not gonna leave you here on the sidewalk. Just come on. Give him time to calm down.”