Ryan’s stomach lurched as Michael took another step into Teas’d.
Michael being here couldn’t be good. In fact, Ryan knew that whatever Michael had in store, it would likely hurt everybody in the end. It always did when it came to Michael.
“What are you doing here, Michael?” Ryan asked again when his brother didn’t say anything. Michael looked around the tea shop, and Ryan knew that his brother was taking in everything as if he were casing the place. Michael would see random bags of tea, containers for it, and teapots and handmade ceramics. He wouldn’t see anything valuable, but that was his brother. He only saw value in monetary worth. Whatever he could use to get more drugs or use more people.
He wouldn’t see the heart and the soul of the place. Wouldn’t see all of the hard work that Abby had put into everything that she did. He wouldn’t see the way she had arranged each of the areas so that people felt like they were at home and could just sit right down and have a cup of tea.
He wouldn’t see the different flavorings and the ways that Abby did her best to make sure it felt like it was a new season with each one so her customers felt like they could just sip and enjoy their time.
Michael wouldn’t see any of that.
He wouldn’t see the value in what Abby had, or even in who she was.
But Ryan did.
And because he knew that Michael always saw what Ryan had, wanted what was Ryan’s and coveted it for himself, Ryan had to get his brother out of this place before he screwed it all up. Ryan knew that he could screw up everything just fine on his own, he didn’t need the help of his drug-addicted brother.
And Michael was completely stoned off his ass right then.
Ryan could see the glassy sheen in eyes so like his own set in his brother’s sunken face. He could see the dark shadows beneath those eyes. He could see his brother’s state in the way Michael suddenly twitched, itching a spot on his arm through his jacket. He could see it in the way Michael staggered just a little as he took another step into the store.
He could see it in the way his brother’s eyes weren’t completely tracking, even as he cased the place.
His brother was stoned. High off whatever he could get. Probably having used the last of whatever money he’d taken from someone else. Because Michael never got a job, no matter how many times his parents or Ryan had tried. Michael didn’t like to work for his money. He liked it given to him. When they had been younger, their parents had obliged.
Ryan had gotten a job when he was a teenager, had wanted to earn his way because that was how he’d thought to outdo his brother. His parents’ attention had been solely on Michael, and Ryan had wanted to be different. Had wanted everything to be different. He’d worked for his money rather than taking it all like Michael did.
His brother preferred just sitting down and letting other people take care of him.
But Ryan wouldn’t let that happen.
He just didn’t know how to get his brother out of this place.
“Nice place you have here,” Michael said, his voice not slurred but very precise, as if he was doing his best to say every single word like he meant it rather than slurring.
“I’m going to ask you again, Michael. What are you doing here?”
Ryan felt Abby put her hand on his back. It should have strengthened him, should have sent some warmth through him like it usually did, but it did nothing. All it did was remind Ryan that Michael could screw up everything, even more than Ryan could do on his own. It reminded him that he needed to get his brother out of Abby’s place and away from her life. Ryan needed to stay away from Abby. She deserved far more than a lover with a drug-addicted brother. She deserved far more than anything that Ryan could give her.
But he couldn’t think about his need, couldn’t focus on what he wanted and what he would be so sad to lose. He needed to focus on Michael.
Again.
“I can’t just come and visit my dear brother? I mean, you don’t call, you don’t write. All you do is pretend that you know what the fuck you’re doing. You know, I see you sitting here drinking tea like some fancy boy. Dad wouldn’t have liked that. He never did like the fact that you like taking it up the ass, but then again, you usually enjoyed sticking it in a girl or a guy when you were done. It didn’t really matter though, did it, Ryan? Daddy always liked you more than me. Maybe if I didn’t mind taking it up the ass like you, he’d have loved me more.”
Bile slid up Ryan’s throat, and he took a step forward towards Michael, trying to get him out of the place before he did any more damage.
“Don’t,” he growled, but Michael ignored him.
Ryan knew that Abby was aware he was bisexual. It had come up in conversation in the past, and she hadn’t seemed to mind. Between his friends, he was pretty sure that only one or two weren’t bisexual. In fact, a trio of friends up in Denver even lived in a true triad. Sexuality didn’t mean anything to them beyond the fact that it was their identity.
So the fact that Michael was saying things the way he was, probably trying to get a rise out of Ryan or embarrass him in front of Abby, wouldn’t work the way Michael wanted it to.
Instead, all it did was put crude words into the air, though that might hurt his relationship with Abby.
Then again, that was probably what Michael wanted.
Because Michael never liked it when Ryan had anything of his own.
“You need to get out of here, Michael. Let’s go and talk outside. Or get some coffee somewhere.”
Not at Thea’s.
Ryan’s voice was firm, and far steadier than it had been when he was younger. This wasn’t the first time Michael had come into a place where Ryan was, trying to screw everything up. And Ryan was afraid that it wouldn’t be the last. But this would be the last time Michael ever stepped foot in Abby’s place.
Abby was special. Abby was everything.
And he’d be damned if Michael hurt the woman Ryan cared about. The woman he wanted to be his woman. The woman who couldn’t be his woman.
“You know, you keep trying to tell me what to do, and I don’t think you understand, my brother. My twin. I don’t think you understand that I don’t have to listen to anything you fucking say. I didn’t when we were younger, and I damn well sure don’t now. All you had to do was help me, but instead, you sit on your high horse in your big fucking house and pretend that I’m not even your brother. I’m your flesh and blood, Ryan. I’m the one who means the most to you, at least I should.”
Michael leaned over and looked around Ryan to wave at Abby.
“Hi there, doll. What’s your name?”
“Don’t talk to her.”
“Oh?” There was a flash of triumph in his brother’s eyes, and Ryan knew that he had made a mistake. He shouldn’t have protected Abby, but then again, there was no damn way he wasn’t going to protect her.
Michael was going to try and get what he wanted, and Ryan would do what he could to make sure that never happened.
“You shouldn’t hide her,” Michael said, looking at his brother. “I mean, she’s a pretty little thing. Maybe we should share her like we did when we were younger.”
Ryan took another step forward, and Michael took a step back, knocking into a display of tea canisters. They shook against the wall but didn’t fall. That made Ryan freeze because there was no way he was going to destroy Abby’s shop trying to get his brother out of the place. He would just remain calm and collected and make sure that Michael didn’t fuck everything up.
Ryan lowered his voice and tempered his anger as much as possible. “We didn’t share when we were younger, Michael. You’d need to be sober and not drugged off your ass to get it up.” Ryan winced, annoyed with himself for letting his temper spill over. He shouldn’t goad his brother, he just needed to get him out of there. If he did, everything would be okay.
Everything had to be okay.
Michael’s eyes narrowed into slits. “You’re an asshole. You know that? You think you’re so high and mighty, and yet you’re nothing. Just like you were when we were little.”
Michael looked over at Abby again. “And I know what your name is, dear Abby.” Michael giggled. Fucking giggled. “Oh, that’s funny. Maybe I can write to you like all those little old ladies do. I wouldn’t have those stupid fucking problems that don’t mean anything, but you could help me with my dear brother. Do you know that he has a stick up his ass? I mean, he has all those tattoos, and he thinks he’s so cool doing tattoos and piercings and living on the edge. But he’s just some fucking hipster with too much money and time on his hands. Mommy and Daddy loved me more most of the time, and Ryan never liked that. So he made sure that I didn’t get anything when they died. I mean, they kicked the fucking bucket, and I got nothing. There’s something fucking wrong with that.”
“I said don’t talk to her,” Ryan snapped. And how the hell did he know Abby’s name? It wasn’t on the shop, and she didn’t wear a name tag. That meant that Michael had been watching them for more than just today.
That sent chills down Ryan’s spine, and he shook his head, trying not to throw up. “You need to leave.”
“Yes,” Abby said, her voice firm and without a trace of fear in it. “This is my place of business, and you’re not welcome here. You need to go before I call the police.”
Michael just shook his head, still giggling. “You think you can tell me what to do? A bitch thinking she can tell me what to do? You know nothing, just like you, Ryan. Little fucking Jon Snow who knows nothing but is apparently good with his tongue. Because the only way you can get her is by using that mouth of yours. I bet that beard feels good between your thighs, doesn’t it, little bitch?”
Ryan took a step forward and grabbed his brother by his leather jacket. “I need you to fucking leave.”
“I don’t think so.” Then Michael wiggled away, smashing his elbow into Ryan’s gut.
Ryan hadn’t been expecting that, and sucked in a breath as he tried to grab his brother.
But Michael ducked and threw out his hands, knocking over a display of teapots before he did it again to a shelf of canisters.
“What the fuck are you doing? Get out of here. Stop it.” Ryan shouted the words and tackled his brother to the floor, knocking over another set of teapots in the process.
He had his brother on the floor but looked over at Abby, who had her phone to her ear, probably talking with the police. She was pale and not saying a word to him, just telling whoever was on the other end to come over. The fight must have been loud—though Ryan couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of the blood in his ears—because the Montgomerys were soon over at the store, ready to help out.
Mace had Adrienne behind him even as she tried to push through, probably trying to see what the fuck was going on just like the rest of them.
“Mace, let me in. I need to make sure Abby’s okay.”
Landon pushed his way through, his shirt off even in the cold, new ink on his shoulder. Ryan had forgotten that Mace was working on Landon’s tattoo today, meaning the whole merry bunch was there, even Dimitri and Thea, who apparently had been at the bakery. As each person looked at Michael, they paused, glancing between Ryan and his twin.
It wasn’t every day that his friends saw a distorted mirror image of someone they knew.
Everyone was front and center to see his fucking drug-addicted brother lying on the ground, everything torn, shattered, and broken around them.
And Abby looking at Ryan as if she had seen a ghost.
Or maybe as if he were beneath her.
And that would be true.
Because without Ryan being there, Michael probably wouldn’t have come into the shop at all.
If Ryan had been faster or smarter, he would have gotten Michael out of there before he destroyed anything. Instead, all Abby’s newest and most expensive displays were ruined, and it was his damn fault.
“The cops on their way?” Ryan asked as Mace and Landon and Dimitri all circled him. Thea and Adrienne went over to Abby, holding her close and whispering to her. They were probably making sure that she was all right and telling her that everything would be okay.
And it was going to be okay.
As long as he had nothing to do with her. As long as he walked away and made sure that she would always be fine, that this would never happen again, she would be okay.
“I called the police,” Abby said, her voice wooden. “They’re on their way. If you would just keep him here…”
“What the fuck is going on?” Mace asked, anger in his voice.
“Meet my brother, Michael.”
“You’re going to pay for this. No one fucks with me.” Michael shook under Ryan’s hold, and the other guys in the room came closer, ready to help.
“Shut up.” Ryan put his hand on the back of Michael’s head and pushed it to the floor. Maybe he would have tried to be a better brother and not hurt Michael, but he was so fucking tired. So fucking tired of all of this.
Why couldn’t his brother just leave him alone? The more Ryan had helped in the past, the worse Michael got. So Ryan had stopped. He had pushed his brother away, just hoping that Michael would be able to find peace.
Ryan had never looked for his own. He had thrown himself into his work and tried not to make others care about what was wrong with him or worry about what he needed. Then he made a mistake. A big fucking error when it came to Abby.
He deserved anything he got.
But Abby didn’t.
“Well, damn,” Dimitri said, his voice low. The guys knew about his brother, at least some of the details. It was hard to have drinks and wings twice a week for over a year and not share at least some things about yourself.
They had wanted to know about Ryan’s life, and he had mentioned Michael. And that meant the guys’ women probably knew about Michael, too.
“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at Abby. She just gave him a tight nod, and he knew that this was the beginning of the end. He’d fucked up. Then again, that’s what his family did.
“Let me help clean up,” Adrienne said and then stopped herself midstride. “No, I guess the police need to see this, don’t they? Ryan, do you have him? Should the guys be helping you?”
“We’ve got it,” Mace growled, and soon, all four men were helping keep Michael down, their eyes on the women in the room since the aggression in the air intensified with each passing moment. It only calmed slightly when the police arrived.
All of them talked with the cops and gave statements as the authorities pulled Michael out of the way, taking in the scene and doing their job. Ryan had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the end of it. Jail time, and a little slap on the wrist for destruction of property and threatening wasn’t going to stop Michael. It never did.
Ryan couldn’t look at Abby. He was afraid that if he did, he’d see the disgust in her expression, the hurt.
He was so fucking embarrassed. So fucking ashamed.
It was one thing to say that, yes, he had a brother who was a drug addict, it was another when he showed up in your life and screwed everything up. It was yet another thing when he was suddenly there in your face, screaming and saying crude things that no one should ever say or have to hear. It was still more when that person came in and destroyed the things that you loved.
Ryan knew that Abby was doing well in her shop, but it was still early enough that he was afraid that if insurance didn’t cover what had happened, she would lose everything. Well, he wasn’t going to allow that to happen. At least he would do his best to never let that happen.
As the police took Michael close to the door, his brother looked Ryan in the eye. “You’re a fucking betrayer. Look what you did to me. Look what you left me with. You think you deserve this life? You’re nothing. One wrong move, and you’re right beside me. Needle or not.”
The police pulled Michael out of the building, out of everything that Abby had worked so hard for. And Ryan just stood there, his fists at his sides, a small cut on his hand from one of the teapots that had shattered on the floor. He didn’t know when he’d gotten cut, but it had probably happened when he knocked Michael down.
The cut shed a single droplet of blood on Abby’s floor, and he noticed the way the others looked down at it—most likely looked down on him.
“Okay, let me help you clean up now, they took photos,” Adrienne said, her voice soft.
“Let’s just leave it for now, close up for the night. Maybe go get some coffee?” Abby’s voice started to break, and everyone looked at Ryan as if it was his job to go over and hold her. As much as he wanted to do that, that wasn’t him anymore. He couldn’t hold her. He didn’t have the right.
He knew he had been falling for her already—falling for her smile, for everything about her. And he knew that if he stayed, he’d hurt her even more than just this night had.
So he glanced at her, looked at the wideness of her eyes, the paleness of her face. It would be forever etched on his mind. And then he looked at the door. “I’ll help clean up tomorrow. But I can’t do this. I need to go. I’m done.”
Nobody said a word, but Abby moved forward. She put a hand on his arm, but he didn’t look down at her. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t turn her way. Because if he did, he’d break down, and he’d want to stay. And if he stayed, he’d hurt her.
“I’ve got to go. I’ll pay for it. But I’ve got to go.”
He paused. “I’m sorry.” He let out a breath. “But I’m done.”
And then he walked out, leaving a mess behind him like he always did when it came to his brother.
Maybe Michael was right, maybe Ryan wasn’t so different, after all.
Ryan would help clean it up, and then he’d walk away. Find a new life…a new something. Because he couldn’t stay. He couldn’t even look at Abby.
Because he’d break.
Break more than he already was.