Storm. Brigid Kemmerer

Storm - Brigid Kemmerer


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from the explosion, and he couldn’t see yet. Seth couldn’t have held on through that. Gabriel had to be around here somewhere.

      His rain worked fast. The fire was already turning to nothing more threatening than billowing smoke.

      A hand caught his arm, rolled him over. Chris fought, striking out before he knew who had hold of him.

      “Hey! Kid!” A light was shining in his eyes. One guy, no, two, stood over him. “Take it easy.”

      Chris stared up, blinking stars out of his vision.

      Not Tyler, not Seth.

      Cops.

      CHAPTER 5

      The little green lines on the clock on the dash announced it was almost three in the morning. Chris was glad he sat in the back of the truck’s cab, somewhat hidden in the shadowed corner behind his oldest brother.

      “I don’t get what you’re so upset about.” Gabriel was up front, slouched against the door, looking coiled and feral in the dim light.

      Michael’s fingers gripped the wheel. Headlights filtered through the back window of the pickup, and Chris could see the muscles of Michael’s forearms stand out from the strain. Nick was following them in the SUV; he’d driven Michael to pick them up.

      Chris had wanted to ride home with him, but Michael had practically dragged him to the truck by his ear.

      “You don’t get what I’m upset about?” Michael’s voice was low and dangerous.

      “It’s not like they charged us with anything.”

      Chris looked out the tiny backseat window. The cops had threatened to—but thank god they’d bought some stupid story about a prank gone wrong. They’d searched them and handcuffed them, then made them sit on the wet pavement to wait while rain threaded through his hair and dripped into his eyes.

      They’d done the same to Seth and Tyler.

      Chris didn’t regret a minute of it.

      “You don’t get,” Michael said, his voice a bit louder, “what I’m upset about?”

      Thunder cracked in the sky overhead. A bolt of lightning struck beyond the trees ahead of them, lighting Gabriel’s eyes. “You mean, besides the fact that you’re a big pussy?”

      “Don’t start with me.”

      Gabriel made a disgusted sound and looked out the window. “What are you going to do, ground me? Send me to my room without my frozen dinner?”

      “You don’t like it? Leave.”

      “Fine. Pull over.”

      Michael didn’t.

      Gabriel snorted. “See.”

      “Cut the crap. If I let you out, you’ll just get in with Nick.”

      Chris almost wished they’d left him with the policemen. When his brothers got going, it was usually better to be somewhere else.

      Michael glanced in the rearview mirror. “Care to weigh in?”

      Chris kept his mouth shut and shook his head.

      Michael turned his head to look at Gabriel. “The worst part is that you dragged Chris into this. It’s bad enough the crap you pull with Nick—”

      “He didn’t drag me,” Chris snapped. “I wanted to go.” He hated the way Michael said that, as if Chris came along like a stray dog, coaxed by a piece of meat and a pat on the head.

      Didn’t you?

      He shoved the thought away. Maybe Gabriel’s plan had been over the top—Chris knew he should have been more suspicious that Nick wasn’t in on it. But Chris didn’t blame Gabriel. He was grateful. Christ, for the first time, he felt like one of his brothers understood him.

      “It wasn’t his fault,” Chris said.

      Gabriel glanced into the backseat, caught Chris’s eye, and smiled.

      Solidarity. Chris smiled back.

      “You know I can lose custody, right?” Michael said. “You all start acting like a bunch of delinquents, and they’ll yank the court order so quick—”

      “Boo hoo,” said Gabriel. That smile was gone.

      Michael glanced over at him. “What were you thinking?” When he didn’t get an answer, he reached over and smacked Gabriel on the back of the head. “Seriously. What the hell were you thinking?”

      Gabriel drew back and practically snarled at him. “They beat the crap out of Chris. It’s time for them to remember we can strike back.”

      “So wait.” Michael raised his eyebrows, the sarcasm thick. “Getting arrested—that wasn’t part of the plan?”

      “Fuck you.”

      “Typical.”

      Gabriel leaned forward, those headlights catching his eyes and making them gleam. “I shouldn’t have been the one taking him out anyway. Maybe if you gave a shit—”

      “Maybe if I gave a shit?” Michael grabbed his arm. “Look, you little—”

      Then Gabriel took a swing at him, and the car swerved.

      “Hey!” Chris grabbed the handle over the door. They were grappling in the front seat, all barely contained rage.

      He unclicked his seat belt and grabbed Gabriel’s arm while Michael grasped the steering wheel again. Chris got an arm around Gabriel’s neck and pinned him to the headrest.

      “Lemme go,” Gabriel ground out. “Damn it, Chris, lemme—”

      “Chill out.” Now Chris wished Gabriel had ridden in the SUV. Nick was better at countering his twin’s rage. “Both of you. We’re almost home.”

      But getting home solved nothing. Gabriel wrenched free and shoved out the door before the truck came to a full stop in the driveway.

      “Wait a minute,” Michael called. “Don’t think this is over.” He hustled to get the truck in park and slid out of the cab.

      Chris swiped the water off his cheeks and followed his brothers.

      Nick killed the SUV behind the truck. “What was that about back there?” he called, slamming his door.

      “Just your brother having a tantrum,” Michael yelled back. He’d almost caught up to Gabriel, and he reached out a hand to grab his arm. “Running? Who’s the pussy now?”

      Gabriel swung around and punched him.

      Michael hit him back.

      Chris didn’t realize he’d stopped short until Nick appeared at his side. He could hear their breathing, too quick, a rush of air mixed with the rain and the thunder of his pulse. Chris shifted his weight, wanting to interfere, he just didn’t know who to help.

      Lightning hit a tree behind the house. Thunder cracked and branches fell.

      Chris felt it through the rain. That lightning wanted a target.

      Another bolt pierced the ground like a spear of light, hitting somewhere between them and Michael. Another struck the very edge of the porch railing. A small fire flared to life, crawling along the strip of wood.

      Chris swore and begged the rain for help. It poured and doused the fire.

      “It’s too much,” said Nick. “He can’t control it.” He started forward.

      Lightning struck right in front of them. Chris grabbed Nick’s arm and jerked him back. He suddenly felt like a sitting duck.

      Michael had Gabriel pinned now, trapped against the ground. Lightning dove through the sky to strike three feet from Michael’s


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