I would take out my phone so that I’d have evidence, but I couldn’t do that to Les. I remain behind them for several minutes while the party continues around us, everyone completely unaware that I’m a fraction away from losing my mind. Considering the grip he has on the chick straddling his lap, I doubt he’ll notice for a while. I don’t know how long it’ll take him to notice I’m here. I’m standing behind the couch, looking down at him. I slide my hands into the back pockets of my jeans and hope to hell I can keep them there. That’s why, right now, this son-of-a-bitch is my number-one priority. She has no idea how hard it is to sit back and not let it be my business.
She’s never been a brother before, though.
Les has reminded me more than once that it’s not my business.
My heart rate is signaling for me to just walk away.
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