Snow Flakes (Burnt Ashes #0.5) by K.E Taylor Read Free Book Online Page B

and done, son. One and—” My dad swings the bat for Braden, who is holding a hand out to help me up. I lift my feet and land a kick to Braden’s gut, sending him out of the way. The bat glances off his shoulder, instead of his head.
    “Now we’re even,” I say to Braden, standing up.
    “Fuckin’ punk kids. No good fuckin’—”
    “Give it a rest already, Dad,” I say, brushing some of the broken glass off of me.
    “Who the fu—” He makes a move toward me with the bat again, but I grab hold of it before he gets the chance.
    “Stop,” I say, feeling less terror and more pity for the man who I call my father. His grip loosens, because of the liquid running down his arm, and I wrench the bat free, throwing it over the counter. His arms fall limp at his sides.
    I turn from him and start to walk away, heading for Braden. He is trying to move his shoulder.
    “You all right?” I ask.
    He nods and smiles wolfishly. “I’ll live.”
    Then his eyes widen. I can feel my dad’s presence just behind me. Trey grabs hold of him, trying to hold him back as my dad begins to kick and swing wildly. There is an almost wooden clop sound, and my old man falls to his knees.
    “Huh…,” Chace says, looking at his hand. He is holding a whiskey bottle. Trey releases his grip, and my dad slumps to the floor.
    “What the fuck was that, Chace?” Trey asks. “That sounded brutal.”
    “It was a bar fight, right?” Chace says. Trey nods, his brow furrowed. “I thought the bottle would shatter and he’d pass out…you know, like in the movies.”
    Braden pushes past me, kneeling beside my dad. “He’s still breathing,” he says a moment later. “We better get him to a hospital.”
    “One with padded walls,” Trey says.
    “Let’s let the cops decide,” I say. I take the bottle from Chace and swig a mouthful from it. I then hold it out to Braden, who does the same.
    “You sure you want to get them involved?” he asks and I nod.
    “I should have years ago…”
    “What do you want to do now?” Braden asks.
    “You still have a seat open at your place for dinner?”
    “Man after my own heart!” Trey squeaks. “Ya knock out your old man, then go grab something to eat. What a man.”
    “Fuck off, Trey,” I snap. The little prick is growing on me.
    “Hey, I knocked out the guy,” Chace pined.
    “Nope. I ain’t having it,” Trey says. “Honestly, Chace, you get one shot to make an impression, and you fuck it up. You can’t even hit a guy over the head with a bottle without it going balls up.”
    “Says the guy who wanted to cuddle him. What the fuck were you doing with your arms out like that?” Trey and Chace continue bickering like a married couple, even as Chace heads into the back to get changed.
    I head behind the bar, looking for a dustpan, while Braden moves about, setting some of the tables and chairs right.
    “You sure you’re okay?” he asks, beginning to help me with some of the broken glass.
    “Probably not,” I say. “Honestly…” I let out a sigh. “No matter what, I still couldn’t bring myself to hit my dad.”
    Braden thinks about it for a couple of seconds before answering, “I am pretty sure that’s a good thing.” I look up at him, arching a brow. “It means you’re nothing like him.”
    “Of course not…,” I say, barking out a little chuckle. “I can hold my liquor.”

“All right, boys! Dinner’s ready,” Mac says from the dining room.
    We all shamble in, beers in hand, and take our places around the table. Everything looks awesome. It must have taken her ages to set up the table, let alone cook all the food. It’s a large rectangular table, covered in a claret-coloured cloth, snowflakes embroidered on it. Each place setting has been made up with polished cutlery, as well as mats on which to place our beer. The food looks superb, too, and by that I mean it doesn’t look burnt. Mac looks exhausted, and I can see why. She takes the seat next to mine. I don’t