“And where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Mark demanded when we reached the landing. He stepped in front of the staircase and folded his arms across his chest. “Your mother left me in charge of you.” He turned his attention to Gibs and said, “Get back into bed now.” A shiver racked through Gibs, and he reached for my hand, squeezing it almost as tightly as Lizzie did when this creep was around. “He’s coming with me,” I warned, taking a protective stance in front of my friend. “I’m in charge of where he goes.” Mark’s nostrils flared with temper. “He’s my brother.” “No, you fucking
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