My heart rate is signaling for me to just walk away. Les has reminded me more than once that it’s not my business. She’s never been a brother before, though. She has no idea how hard it is to sit back and not let it be my business. That’s why, right now, this son-of-a-bitch is my number-one priority.
I slide my hands into the back pockets of my jeans and hope to hell I can keep them there. I’m standing behind the couch, looking down at him. I don’t know how long...