Young Love Dies Hard: The Young Brothers, Book 1 by Nikki Lane (old books to read txt) 📗

a few steps closer, eyeing me up. His carpenter pants were no longer stained with paint and shellac, but what I could only imagine to be food from his last few meals.

“You…” he said. “You did this. You told her to leave, didn’t you?”

I knew right away. The slurring speech.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I hissed.

The sallowness of his skin had worsened since the last time I’d been this close to him.

He let out a sarcastic snort. “I should’ve known.” He took a few stumbling steps backward. “Where is she, dammit!”

“I told you. She’s not here,” Aunt Meg yelled.

It wasn’t the answer he was looking for. He lunged toward Aunt Meg, and she braced herself for contact. But he wasn’t after her. Instead, he grabbed hold of my arms and jerked me from her protective stance.

“You’re going to tell me where you’re hiding her, you little bitch. Always the one to play games with me.”

“Get the fuck off me!”

I struggled to free myself from his grip, but it was useless. He was always strongest when he was drunk. Aunt Meg shrieked and pleaded for him to let go. His grip was a vise on my arm. I knew what he was capable of. This wasn’t going to end without a fight.

But I was going to fucking fight. I wasn’t my mother. I refused to let him beat me down. Control me. Make me think that this is what I deserved.

I grappled with him. But he still managed to drag me outside. So I went for my go-to move. I bit the hand that held me. He howled and threw me down.

I clawed at the ground, searching frantically for Aunt Meg. But I couldn’t see her. He grabbed each one of my feet and continued to drag me like a bag of trash through the dirt toward his truck.

I kicked and wailed, hurling insults.

“You’re no good,” he said to me. “Just like your mother.” The whiskey reeked from his breath. His clothes smelled like they hadn’t been washed in weeks. “You’ll fucking find her like you used to.”

“Fuck you, you bastard.”

He hooked his hands under my arms and hoisted me up. “You know…giving you up was the best idea your mother ever had.” He stumbled as I tried to twist free from his grip. “Can’t never understand why Meg wanted to keep you around so damn bad.”

“You’re fucking insane if you think I’m going anywhere with you.”

He flipped me around and dealt me a hard smack across the face. It stung my skin. It tore away another small piece from my will to fight. But I wouldn’t cry. I never did…not in front of him. I lowered my head and held my face. Fucker. He could deal a good blow that was for sure.

“Maeve!” Jacob came sprinting toward the house from the path to the barn.

Aunt Meg and Uncle Jim were several feet behind him, Jack weaving between them. Poor Uncle Jim. I said a silent prayer that his heart could endure this.

Dad staggered back but made sure to keep his grip on my arm. The other one now, so I would have matching black and blues. Perfect. I loved symmetry.

“What the fuck do you want?” Doug said.

“Let her fucking go,” Jacob commanded, his chest heaving.

He stormed toward us without a shred of doubt written on his face. Jack was by his side, barking with a snarl.

“Let her go,” he repeated with a clenched jaw. He reached his hand out to grab me. “Come on, Maeve.”

“I’ve called the cops, Doug,” Uncle Jim said. “Let her go.”

Dad took one more look at me before shoving me back on the ground. Jacob reached down and helped me back up. He formed a shield around me with his body. When he was sure I was okay, he stomped closer to Doug until their faces were just inches apart.

“You ever fucking touch her again. I’ll kill you.”

Doug let out another snort. “Try me, kid. You ain’t got it in you.”

Jacob gave him a hard shove. “We’ll see about that, old man.”

“Jacob,” I called, wiping the dirt from my hands on my dress. “Don’t.”

Doug gave him a shove back, but Jacob barely moved. He was a tree with deep roots; Doug was a twig, fumbling in the wind.

I wondered if Jacob remembered the time when I had cut through the woods after running from Doug. It had been dusk, and in my adrenaline-fueled sprint, I’d gotten temporarily lost. By the time I had gotten my bearings back, night had fallen, and I had stumbled into a bush of poison ivy. Eventually, Jacob had found me crying by the edge of the lake near the farm. He had sat down beside me, wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and comforted me only with his touch. The next few days, we had both been consumed with rashes and blisters.

Sirens wailed in the background, and the night sky illuminated with red and blue lights.

Doug’s eyes widened. “I’m not done with you.” He pointed to Jacob but didn’t waste any time getting in his truck. None of us stopped him. There was no way he was getting out of the driveway.

We all watched as he got in the truck and peeled out, spewing dirt and gravel beneath his tires.

“I’ll go make sure they don’t let him go too far,” Uncle Jim said.

“I’m coming with you.” Aunt Meg held my trembling body in a hug. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

I winced as she squeezed my tender arms. “It’s not your fault. Just please. Make them all go away. I don’t want to deal with the police after all this.”

“Maeve—”

“No, Jacob. Not tonight. I just want to go home.”

I didn’t want to worry about reports and forms. Nothing ever came from them anyway. Just a waste of paper.

“Take her inside, Jacob,” Uncle Jim said.

Jacob and I watched as they trotted down the driveway. The red and blue lights settled near the street, an indication that Doug hadn’t made his planned getaway.

“Come