Cole lands atop Trace, his arms a blur of fury. But Trace is so damn fast and nimble, very few of Cole’s strikes actually hit him. In the next breath, Trace slips from beneath Cole and backhands him so hard I feel my own ears ringing.
“Stop it!” I snap out of it and charge toward them. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”
They don’t look at me, don’t acknowledge me in any way. They’re too consumed by their rage, their need to maul and hurt and make each other bleed.
Grinding my teeth, I glance at the hose near the back door. I could spray them like dogs. Or just let them kill each other.
Grass and blood cover their shirtless torsos. It’s difficult to determine who’s winning, but the amount of red pooling in Cole’s bared teeth makes my stomach turn.
Virginia moves in my periphery, waving me over.
I inch toward her, walking backwards without taking my eyes off the fight. My stomach buckles with every strike, my entire body rigid with the need to intervene.
“They’ve been at it for a while.” Virginia hooks her cane on the metal fence and leans over my shoulder, smelling like sweet persimmon soap.
“Do you know who that is with Trace?” I ask cautiously.
“Of course, dear.” She squints cloudy eyes at the brawl. “Cole told me what happened. Someone should be fired over that horrible confusion at the explosion.”
This should be interesting, since he hasn’t told me shit about his cover story. Though I’m not surprised he talked to her. He’s been out here every day, working on his bike. It’s conceivable that he’s spent more time with my nosy neighbor than he has with me.
Across the yard, Trace wraps his legs around Cole’s neck, both of them grunting as they try to grind an elbow, knee, or whatever body part they can into muscle and bone.
“Did he give you any details about the explosion?” I chew on the inside of my cheek, silently begging them to stop.
“Not much. Just that his company thought they had his body. It’s terrible that he was detained in an Iraqi prison and forgotten about for three years. What has the world come to?”
Hatred and rage and blood. That’s what my world has come to.
Cole surges to his feet and rears back an arm. I tense as Trace’s leg flies out and knocks Cole’s feet out from beneath him. Cole lands on his back, and his agonized groan shoots a sharp pain through my chest.
I jerk to rush toward them, but a gnarled hand catches my wrist.
“Let them work it out.” Virginia squeezes my arm with a shocking amount of strength.
“I can think of better ways to work things out.”
“That’s how boys express their differences. They need to get all the bad out of their blood. They’ll feel better after.”
I doubt they’ll feel anything but bruises and broken bones, but I remain where I am, cringing at the godawful din of smacking flesh.
“Did Cole tell you why he was detained in prison?” I soften my voice to sound like I know the answer.
“Something about a foul-up at the oil terminal, and Iraq thought the U.S. contractors caused it. I don’t really understand how all that political stuff works.”
“Yeah, it confuses me, too.”
For a cover story, I guess it’s vague enough to be believable. Virginia doesn’t seem to bat an eyelash at it.
“Whatever happened to him was bad,” she says. “He doesn’t like to talk about it.” Her hand relaxes, shifting to curl around mine. “You take special care with that boy, you hear? There’s something different about him. A sadness that wasn’t there before. He needs your love now more than ever.”
My heart pinches. “But what about Trace? I’m engaged to him, Virginia.”
“Yes, well, that’s why they’re fighting.” She lifts my hand, drawing my attention to the ring on my finger.
Rings.
Why are there two rings?
“Oh my God.” I separate the silver bands, intimately familiar with both of them. “I didn’t—”
“Cole slipped it on your finger last night while you slept.” Her cataract eyes glitter in the sun. “Trace found out about it, and there you have it.” She gestures at the grappling, grunting tangle of limbs in the grass.
My eyes widen. “How do you know this?”
“They were arguing about it this morning. Spitting and swearing and disturbing the peace.” She lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “They’ve been watching you while you sleep. They argued about that, too.”
Damn her sharp hearing. She’ll be wagging her tongue about my drama up and down the street by lunchtime.
“They’ve been sneaky about it.” She clutches the loose skin on her throat. “Tiptoeing into your room without the other one knowing. I guess they ran into each other early this morning.”