Chapter 11

SPOV

I walked back inside the cabin an hour later. Nate was curled up on his bed, his breathing unsteady, like he'd been crying.

I frowned and tip toed over to the bed, then gasped.

The sleeve of his shirt had rode up to reveal a blue bruise from the back of his hand to halfway up his arm.

"What the hell did James do to you?" I whispered. I turned and strode from the cabin.

James and his pack were sitting around by the dock. I clenched my hands and marched over.

"Hey! You!"

The group looked up.

"Yeah, you. James Sanders. Which one of you is him?"

"Me." James stood up. I gulped. He was taller then expected. "What's it to ya?"

"You're the one who beat up my friend," I growled.

"Yeah. So?" He turned and spit. I realized he had chewing tobacco in his mouth. I shuddered.

"So…do you know how much pain he's in now?"

"Hah. Really?"

"Yeah. Really."

"How much?" There was a definite glint of amusement in his eyes.

"This much!" Sudden inspirations always hit me, weither it's for writing songs or something else entirely.

WHAM! My fist sent James reeling back to his friends. They grabbed him and pushed him back at me.

"Go get 'im, Jamie!" they shouted.

"Fight, fight, fight!"

Uh oh. Now I've done it.

But I didn't care.

James lunged at me and I ducked, darting to the side. Laughter broke from my mouth. This wasn't terrifying, this was fun!

"Come get me!" I taunted. "Bring it."

He grabbed at me. I ducked and rammed him in the stomach. He made a sort of choking sound, and began to cough violently.

"Yeah. That much pain, multiplied by ten. Fell the burn." I growled again and tackled him to the ground.

"Shane!" someone screamed.

"Dude, what are you doing."

"DON'T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN!" I was repeatedly hitting him in the face and gut. Blood covered my hands…his blood.

"STOP!" someone roared and we froze. James had hit me somewhere…I didn't know where. He had been struggling back just as hard.

Someone yanked me off the guy, and held me back. "ONE MORE!" I begged my captor. "He…needs…to pay!"

"SHANE! Stop…it," Jason growled. "Or I'm shoving you in a birdhouse."

I froze. "A birdhouse?"

"Yes."

"I hate birdhouses," I grumbled. "NOW LET ME GO!"

"After that insult to birdhouses? Nu uh. And Brown's coming."

I froze. "What?"

"Yep! He saw everything. See?" Jason turned me and I saw my uncle striding across the grass.

"Shoot. JASON LET ME GO!!" I had to get out of here!

Three Hours Later…

I had a good, long talk with Brown, and then a boring, completely idiotic conversation with Candy while I scrubbed plates.

Although I got busted, I have to admit.

There is something very satisfying about being a fight…especially if you win.

JPOV

What the heck is wrong with the younger people these days? Two fights in barely twelve hours! Ugh.

I peered in the Mess Hall, having seen Shane being escorted there by Brown five minutes prior, and laughed. Shane was bent over the sink, up to his elbows in soapy water, scrubbing a plate. Not to mention he had on a kitchen apron, and…a hair net.

I stepped inside. "Wow. I better get a camera."

He looked at me, flexed his jaw, then growled "Get out of here, Jason, before I fling this at you." He motioned to the plate in his hands.

I dug out my camera phone. "Hold on. This could be a great memory."

"OUT!" He lunged at me. I snapped a picture and, laughing, darted from the room.

"DELETE THAT!" he shouted from the window.

"Nope!"

"What's going on?"

I froze, slowly closed my phone, turned and looked sheepishly up at Brown. "Uh…scrap-booking?" I squeaked.

Shane was frozen at the window, a trace of amusement on his face. I suddenly realized…they looked a little alike.

Weird.

Brown nodded. "Uh huh." He held out his hand. Sighing, I took out my phone and put it in his hand. He scrolled to my pictures, looked at the one of Shane…and laughed.

"Okay, you can keep this one," he announced, handing my phone back.

"WHAT?!" Shane came barreling out. "But Unc—Brown that's now fair!"

"Maybe. Maybe not." Brown leaned down and whispered "Send me a copy."

Shane's jaw dropped. "But…but!" he stuttered.

Brown smiled and walked away.

We stood after him. Shane was still staring open mouth at him.

A few girls walked by and laughed at Shane. "Hey, Shane!" they called.

With a yelp, he ran back inside, yelling "You're dead, Jason!" over his shoulder.

I raised my eyebrows, then walked away.

Somehow, this day turned out more amusing then I had thought.