Page 3 of Fu*kboys in Flannel
Practically foaming at the mouth.
Rabid.
Here’s my brother. Madman Mason Slade.
“Do it. C'mon do it, Mase.” I egg him on because at this moment I want to feel his violence. I want to match it with my own.
Mason is not one to disappoint. He throws me against the oakwood cabinets that Dad had custom made with ravens etched into a border. Expensive and over the top, but a constant reminder.
You are born a Raven and you will die a Raven.
There is no escaping the Ravens of Hollow Hill.
A laugh slips out, as I think about it. I’ll never break free of this mountain and I’ve made my peace with it. I’ll live here and I’ll die here. I’ll take anything and everything I want.
“You are no better than me, Bennett. You and I are the very same. You just dress up your crazy in costumes to hide. I wear mine on my sleeves, proudly. Go fuck yourself.” Spit flies onto my face from the way he snaps out his words in anger and I let a grin stretch my face wide.
I reach up, grabbing hold of either side of his head and then fling my own forward until it connects with his nose. I feel the cartilage give just a bit and the grunt that leaves his body tells me I hit the money shot.
We grapple with each other, grabbing anything and everything we can.
Blows rain on both of us, but no words are spoken. None are needed.
We always did communicate best this way.
I slam my brother down hard on the granite of the island, strewing cups and bottles everywhere. I feel my boots crunch beneath the broken glass and the slick feel of alcohol causes me to lose purchase for just a moment.
The cut on his lip from minutes ago is once again bleeding and I feel the telltale sign of blood pouring from a cut on my face. If I had to guess, he split my eyebrow open with one of his elbow throws.
Equally matched, but neither of us will surrender.
He rears up, locking his arms around my head and we both fall to the ground, landing in a pile of limbs and shards.
“Get the fuck off me so we can get off the fucking ground.” I groan out against the weight of Mason pressing against my sternum.
“Why? In the gutter is where we thrive. Don’t delude yourself,” he huffs out, just as out of breath as I am. He does roll off of me and we both just lay there panting harshly on the Calamander wood flooring. Fancy fucking wood imported from Sri Lanka. Don’t ask me why when we’re surrounded by fucking trees at every turn.
“Hmm I see we’re getting along and playing well with others. Jesus fuck, you two are the biggest pains in my fucking ass. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were fucking each other. I don’t give a fuck if you are but either one or both of you don’t know how to use your dick with how much fucking tension is happening right now.” Fucking Grey Bishop. Of course he fucking walks in right now.
There’s that fucking sixth sense bullshit I was talking about.
“Shut the fuck up, Grey. Don’t you have a bitch or two to sink into right now?” I groan out in exasperation. I really don’t want to deal with him right now.
“I have a gaggle, but here I am corralling you two and fucking Remington. Now why the fuck are you guys fighting like two bitches over who’s taking my dick first?”
“Leave it. We don’t have to tell you shit, Grey.” Mason snaps out, letting anger bleed into his tone.
I see Grey’s left eye twitch as I glance up at him, and that’s never a fucking good sign.
He leans against the wall and doesn’t say a word. Just staring at us. Unblinking.
He burrows beneath our skin until Mason and I glance at each other. We communicate without speaking, both agreeing just to fucking tell him. He’s gonna tear us apart for fucking around with his cousin.
“A bitch. Which one’s got the both of you so fucking twisted up? Jesus, just fuck her and purge her from your system. The both of you. Give her a little Slade brother’s sandwich.”
I don’t answer right away, instead choosing to push myself up off the ground. I’m stalling because once I tell Grey, there’s no telling which way he’s going to attack.
I reach down, extending a hand to help pull my brother up. I can’t fucking stand him, but that’s my flesh and blood. I’ll never leave him in the gutter without me.