"This is my home! When you are here, you are under my rules! Now sit down, Drake. No one is going anywhere," Malcolm said, pointing to an empty chair that we had strategically moved further away from the couch. He pressed a hand to his chest and seemed to be trying to catch his breath. As if he'd been surprised by his own response.
The fire in Drake's eyes did not lessen, but he moved to the chair. He never took his eyes off of me, even through Malcolm's rebuke. Strangely, it reminded me of our first encounter, where neither of us seemed to want to break eye contact. Oh, how he was a different person then. How different I had been, too.
I did not lower my own gaze until Malcolm cleared his throat. I saw that he had sat down on the other side of Becca. That Darryl had taken a seat in the other chair beside me. Similar to our arrangement from last night.
"First things first," Malcolm said, his voice back to normal and his breathing apparently under control. "There has been a lot of tension in this family for almost a year now. This has to stop. Right now."
No one disagreed, at least aloud. Malcolm must have taken that as a cue to continue.
"Drake, you hurt your sister, and then you cut her off. All she ever wanted was your understanding...and an apology. You had your reasons, and she had hers. But she's your fucking sister! What the hell is wrong with you?"
Again, there was no response. Especially from Drake. I'd not seen him this stubborn since that night in the hospital's conference room. Was he impervious to any criticism?
"Now, this bullshit with your wife's ex-boyfriend..." my brother-in-law said with a sigh.
I had been staring at Drake's lap...at his hands that were resting there. They fisted now. Malcolm had hit a nerve.
"This is between me and my sla— wife," Drake said. "It can be taken care of back home."
Malcolm smacked his fist down on the end table, making the lamp rattle. "I said no one is going anywhere! And her name is Daphne, or have your forgotten?"
"I have not." Drake's voice was clipped, like a smart-ass child.
"Good. Now what the fuck have you been doing with Jimmy Driscoll? You know very well how damaged he is. What he did to Daphne—"
"This is none of your business!" Drake yelled, shooting to his feet.
Darryl leapt from his chair toward me just as Becca threw her body across the front of mine. Their protection was not needed as Drake just began to pace.
Becca got up as well and stepped in front of her brother as he headed back toward the fireplace. "It is my business when my sister-in-law can't even pick up the goddamn phone and call me!"
Drake yelled at her to move. She screamed at him to grow some real balls. Malcolm told them both to calm down.
"You didn't even tell her I was married!" Becca said, pointing at me. "I wanted you at my wedding! But you thought it was more important to hold a grudge. Has it been easy to pretend we don't exist?"
I couldn't see Drake's expression with his back to me, but I imagined he was glaring at her.
"You know what you are, Drake?" Becca poked her finger into his chest now. "You're a coward."
He raised a hand.
Becca flung her arms out. "Do it! Hit me like you want to hit your wife. Just like her fucking ex did!"
"Don't you dare!" Malcolm leapt up from the couch.
Drake held up both hands in surrender and tried get around Becca instead to get past the coffee table. She resisted, moving to block him. They did a little side-to-side dance that would have been comical if not for the gravity of the situation.
I don't know if it was the childish bickering or that fact that I'd felt so suppressed for so long, but something inside of me snapped.
I shot up from my seat and screamed at the top of my lungs. It felt so amazing, I did it again. When I opened my eyes, everyone was watching me. Drake had his hands on Becca's shoulders, and Malcolm had his hands on Drake's, apparently trying to pull him away.
I yelled, although my voice was hoarse now, "Stop it! Just stop it!"
Whatever adrenaline had been in me seemed to have escaped with my outburst. My whole body was shaking. Suddenly, I collapsed.
Darryl caught me as I almost missed the couch. "Daphne, are you okay?"
I blinked and nodded. Tears slipped down my cheeks. God, as cathartic as that felt to let out my frustration, it didn't solve the problem.
As soon as he got me seated again, Darryl ran into the kitchen and brought me a glass of water. He sat down beside me and helped me drink, although water trickled down my chin.
Becca crossed her arms. "Malcolm, maybe we should talk about this later. What with Daphne—"
"I'm pregnant, not fucking incompetent to carry on a conversation." I sighed and laid my head back against the softness of the couch.
Becca gasped, and one of the guys groaned.
"You're what?" Drake yelled.
I squeezed my eyes shut, realizing my mistake. I laid my hand on my belly that was far from showing. I felt snarky all of a sudden and laughed. "Pregnant, Drake. Expecting. Bun in the oven. Knocked up. I'm having a baby."
"I know what it means." Drake grunted. "I suppose this is your lover..."
Before I could even react, I heard a loud smack. I opened my eyes to see Drake stumbling back into the chair he had previously vacated. Malcolm was clenching and releasing the fingers on his right hand.
"Fuck you, Drake!" Becca turned to her husband and gasped. "You're bleeding!"
