I take the cue and leave his office, heading straight down the stairs, then up the opposite flight to Baby’s room. I bust through his door, proud at the sight I see, but still pissed at the fact he let Jude know who Arloe really is. Who her father is.
The tiny brunette pops his cock from her mouth and stands with a squeal, trying to cover her naked body with her small hands.
“Don’t worry, baby girl, Easton likes to watch.” He winks at her.
I pull my eyebrows together and curl my lip. “Negative, you little shit,” I turn my attention to the girl. “Get dressed and get out. I need to have a moment with my brother.”
She glances between him and me. He’s still lounging on the edge of his bed, dick still out and hard. “Brothers?” She shakes her head. “No. No. I am not getting involved with a family that likes to do kinky shit together.”
She gathers her clothes from the floor and runs from the room.
“Really, Baby?”
He lets out a deep breath and shoves his cock back into his pants before zipping them and standing. “What? She was a clinger. I saw an opportunity and took it.”
“You’re disgusting, but I admire your tactic.”
He smiles proudly. “Thanks.”
I return the smile then step closer, slapping his forehead with the back of my hand.
“What the fuck, E?”
“That—” I point to the spot he’s rubbing. “That is for telling Jude about the girl I had you look up. You knew he’d run and tell Dad. What part about ‘make sure no one sees that’ didn’t you understand?”
“Dude, I didn’t tell anyone. Jude just happened to walk in and see the fucking screen after you left. I opened it back up so I could make sure to clear everything. What did you expect me to do? Tell him to get out?” He laughs sarcastically.
I shake my head. “Don’t let it happen again, understand? If I come to you for something, assume it’s confidential.”
“Whatever you say, old fuck.”
I smack his forehead again. “That’s just because I know you won’t do shit.”
I hurry out of the room laughing before he has time to react, but as soon as I’m in the hallway and down all of the steps, the anger inside me from before replaces the lightweight, happy feeling I shared with Ashton.
I remove my suit jacket and lay it over the railing of the steps then slowly cuff my sleeves and roll them to my elbows. One by one, I remove the plain bands on my fingers and replace them with studded ones, luxurious diamonds and rubies, from my pocket.
“Jude!” I scream his name, knowing he’ll hear me wherever he is in the house, and wait.
I hear his footsteps before I can see him. Finally, he emerges from the left, and with one look, he knows exactly what’s going on.
He stops a few feet from me and squares his shoulders. “Are we really going to do this, brother?”
You see, our family may be different in a lot of ways, but in some, we’re just like everyone else. And just like most brothers do, we fight. Of course, family coming first was drilled into our minds from day one, but when you spend so much time with someone, it’s hard to always get along.
And since Dad is anything but traditional, he raised us to be strong, in every sense of the word, and nothing else. Most parents would want their children to grow up to be compassionate. Caring. Outstanding citizens in the world. But not Dad.
If we were scared of a monster in the closet, Dad wouldn’t check and try to reassure us. Instead, he’d give us a Glock and tell us to handle it. A disagreement with a brother? Duke it out. Last one standing with the least amount of blood loss wins.
In the Ciccone family, we battle others together, and sometimes even battle one another, but at the end of the day, we will die before we let anyone fuck with us. And that’s something I feel Jude needs reminding of.
Just because he’s my brother, doesn’t mean I’ll stand by and take his shit. “Yes, really.”
He shakes out his shoulders and rolls his head. “Fine. Let’s do this because we have a flight to catch.”
It pisses me off how he’s more worried about a fucking flight than handling this shit between us. I rush toward him and swing hard at his face. He moves to the right quickly, dodging my punch, then sends his own into my ribs.
I buckle over and cough from the impact, but it only fuels me with more anger. I rise and swing with my left hand, knowing he will try to dodge it, then send my right fist into the side of his head. I can feel the gems of my rings dig into his flesh, and when I move away, I can see trickles of blood run from his hair, down to his cheek.
He raises his hand and touches the spot, bringing his blood-covered fingers back to in front of him. “You dirty fighting motherfucker.”
I shrug, still keeping my guard up. “Dirty gets results.”
“No,” he retorts. “Murder gets results. So, are you going to kill me, E?”
I bite my lip and shake my head. “No. I’m just going to beat your ass so you remember it should be me and you over you and Dad. The only reason you pressed the info from Baby was so you could run and tell Dad like a pissed-off toddler because I didn’t give you your way that night.”
He laughs. “I did what was best for the family. Maybe if you want to keep something to yourself, don’t ask the one person who is looking for an in to help. You know damn well I didn’t have to press Baby. He practically handed over the info when I saw her face on his screen. He’s the one more worried about Dad. Not me.”
I swing again, connecting with his cheekbone. Pain vibrates from my knuckles up to my wrist, but I shake it off. “Now you’re trying to throw Baby under the bus? Real fucking classy, Jude.”
He doesn’t stand back to his full height. Instead, he stays hunched over and charges me. His shoulder slams into my stomach as his arms wrap around me and smashes me into the banister.
“Boys!” Alfredo’s deep voice echoes throughout the house.
Immediately, Jude and I both release each other and stand, not daring to look him in the eyes. Alfredo is a sweet old man, but there is a reason he was hired all those years ago by my father. He’s just as ruthless as us.
Maybe that’s another reason we all care for him so much—because it was him and not our dad breaking up the fights and helping clean the bloody noses. Not before slapping the backs of our heads a bit, though.
“I just polished that banister.” His voice is back to normal. Cool, calm, and collected.
“Sorry, Alfie. Easton just wanted to prove some sort of dominance he doesn’t even fucking have,” Jude chastises.
I jut my elbow into his side and smile when he folds in half, but it’s quickly erased when I finally bring my eyes to Alfredo’s. I hold up my hands in surrender. “I’m sorry.”
He steps forward, removing a handkerchief from his pocket, and dabs the blood running down Jude’s face. “You’ll be sorry and late if you two don’t stop and get in the car waiting out front. Your flight leaves in an hour.”
I nod and try to step past him, but he grabs my arm. “Don’t ever try and fight any of your brothers here again. Understand? You keep that side of you all outside those doors. My heart can’t handle those things anymore.”