Sinful Like Us (Like Us, #5)

by Krista Ritchie

I see the fist coming. I can’t move. My feet are forced to the fucking mat. Cemented by guilt and blame, and his knuckles smash into my lip. Bitter iron of blood floods my mouth. People yell around me. “Heyheyhey!” I hear my brother. My head spins, the surrounding chaos and my bottled emotion igniting boxes in my head. Boxes that I’ve stapled shut for years. Senses tweaked, my eyes are narrowed, unable to close. I hear rounds firing in violent succession. My pulse ratchets up. I turn my head, but I have tunnel vision. This—this hasn’t happened before. Not while I’m awake. Fuck me. “Back up!” “Let go, O’Malley!” I blink into focus and realize O’Malley is fisting my damp black tee. Banks tries to shove between me and him, and I react like I’ve pressed play on a paused movie. I block my brother and let O’Malley crush another fist into my body. Pounding into my shoulder. Fuck. Banks tears him off me. My adrenaline accelerates, chest rising and falling. Farrow and Oscar drag me from the fight. My brain is screaming to protect my brother, who’s standing on the firing line. “Banks!” I call out. Banks. O’Malley shoves my twin brother, and Banks pushes him angrily back.