Page 73 of Breaking Bristol

“You wouldn’t know what a man was if the definition was tattooed on your forehead and carved into your fat fucking stomach.”

He was going to run out of patience. Shit. I grabbed one of Bristol’s shoes from the floor and threw it into the kitchen. It collided with the pan of dried-up noodles on the stove. “What the fuck was that?”

“How am I supposed to know?” she snapped.

“Shut the fuck up.”

I heard some shuffling, and her voice was once again muffled as she tried to yell at him. Then the barrel of the gun poked out of the door. I braced, and as soon as his hand appeared, I grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand in the air before I punched him in the face, not nearly as hard as I could have, considering.

I got three jabs in before he ducked, put his shoulder in my gut, and pushed back. I went with him because he still had control of the gun, and that was my main concern. My back hit the small island, I wrapped my fingers around the edge to keep my leverage, and a shot went off in the air. I brought my head back, then swung it forward and heard his nose crunch.

My shoulder was fucked, and I knew I couldn’t control his arm much longer, so I let go of the island and grabbed his arm with both hands, then brought it down and slammed it against the counter until the gun fell from his grasp.

It landed at my feet, and he tried to lunge for it, but I kicked it away, and it skidded under the couch. I got a good look at his face and saw the scar on his cheek and over his shoulder, Bristol struggling. “That’s all you got?” I taunted him, repeating Bristol’s words. “Can’t fight me without a gun? Can only hit innocent, helpless women who taste sweeter than they look?”

He punched me in the ribs. “I’ll kill you.”

“You already tried.” I landed an uppercut and then hooked him with my left, which wasn’t my dominant arm but still knocked him to the ground. “Get up.”

“Fuck you,” he spat as he pushed up.

He swung at me again, and I dodged the blow, spinning around until my thigh hit the couch. “Let me move the couch outta the way. Bristol likes riding me on here, and I don’t want it broken next time she wants it that way.” Enraged, he ran at me. But I was ready for him. I grabbed his shirt and threw him into the fridge, where his body bounced off, and his head cracked on the counter.

Blood started pouring from the top of his head, and I froze. Gage’s head split open momentarily dominating my vision.

“You have no idea who you’re fucking with,” he snarled.

“Yeah, I do.” I sucked my teeth and swallowed the metallic taste, then smiled at him. “Can you move so I can get that blood off the counter? That’s another one of our spots, particularly in the morning when she’s still in nothing but my shirt. Just hops up there and spreads her legs for me to—”

He roared as he came at me again, and I waited until he was close enough to put my fist through his throat. He went down, and I kicked him in the gut, and he rolled over, moaning and gasping for air. My boot landed between his legs so hard he skidded a foot across the floor, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

I ran to the bedroom where Bristol was frantically trying to get out of her binds. “Relax, baby. I’ve got you.” I pulled the bandanna out of her mouth and looked over my shoulder to see him in the same position that I’d left him in, then rolled her to her stomach and loosened the ties.

“No!” Bristol screamed at the same time another fiery rod tore through my body. First my gut, then right through the middle of my chest.

I fell to the ground, and Bristol kicked the rope off and put her hands on my face, but I couldn’t feel them. “Run,” I whispered.

“Matthew, no! Stay with me.”

“Run.”

“No!”

My head lolled to the side, my vision got blurry, and I could do nothing to stop Bristol when she got to her feet and screamed. “You shot him in the back!” And then charged at him like a fucking banshee. “You piece of shit! I’m gonna kill you!”

The gun went off again, and I tried to move, but my body wasn’t cooperating. I fought my eyes closing but lost the battle, and the light that blinded me before returned as Mikey knelt on the floor and put his hands over the two holes in my body. “Dammit, Matty. I told you we weren’t ready for you yet.”

“Help her,” I mouthed, coppery metal coating my throat as it choked me and roared in my ears.

Mikey’s nose touched mine, and he warned, “She doesn’t need help, brother. She needs you not to die.”

CHAPTER 20

Matthew

“Honeypie, please come with me.” An unfamiliar feminine voice in the distance stirred me awake, but I couldn’t open my eyes.

“I’m not leaving him,” Bristol snapped, and I felt a flutter beneath my lids. “Stop asking me to leave him, I’m not. Never. I’m never ever leaving him.”