Free Girl Code by LD Davis Page B

had promised me that he didn’t have a problem after he got really messed up at that party the summer before.
    “You had no right to be in here!” Tack roared again, that time his hands harshly gripped my upper arms. His hands squeezed so hard I thought he was going to break my bones. I was stunned. I just stood there and let him do it. Tack had never hurt me before. Ever.
    Everything happened very quickly after that. Tack slammed me up against a wall as he shouted at me. Leslie ran in, yelling and cursing at him to get off of me. He shrugged her off and slammed me again. Les, who had never been violent, but had a mean-ass kick thanks to years of karate, kicked Tack in his side so hard, I was sure she had to have broken some ribs. He stumbled away from me, holding his side. When he stood upright again, he looked murderous, but Leslie stood her ground between us. She was probably a quarter of Tack’s size, but she appeared to be the bigger badass as she stood in what I assumed was some kind of martial arts defensive pose, fearless and ready for a fight. I half expected her to do the Bruce Lee thing and wave Tack on with her fingers. She didn’t wave him on, but she did make him a promise.
    “Touch her again and I will hurt you, Theodore Tackard,” she said, her voice full of emotion.
    My parents stumbled into the room asking questions. Tack continued to yell at me, Leslie continued to threaten him, and I tried to explain to my parents what was going on. It was a big mess of voices until my dad shouted for everyone to shut the hell up.
    “What the hell is happening here?” he asked when we all fell silent.
    “Tabitha was in my room going through my shit,” Tack said angrily.
    Mom looked surprised, but then gave me that you know better look.
    “I was going through his shit for a good reason,” I said patiently. It was clear that I had to tell them. The seething monster in the room was not my brother. In the past, I could have gone through everything Tack owned and he wouldn’t have become the raving lunatic that he was at that moment, breathing fire and ready to shove me through a wall, and I wasn’t at all sure that he wouldn’t hurt Leslie, either—or try to.
    “What reason could you possibly have for going through his personal items?” Mom asked, crossing her arms. She was already taking his side without hearing all of the details.
    I looked at Leslie and she finally relaxed her kick-ass stance and picked up the bag off of the bed. I expected Tack to try to wrestle it from her, but he stood still with his large arms crossed over his chest as she passed the bag to my dad.
    “What’s this?” he asked as he began to pull the zipper on the bag.
    “It’s not mine,” Tack said immediately. His eyes found me and they were full of so much anger that it made me shudder.
    “I’m pretty sure Tack is doing drugs,” I said, my voice quavering. I tried blinking back tears as my father pulled out a couple of the needles and the tourniquet. His brow furrowed and his mouth fell into a deep frown.
    “What is this?” Mom asked, sounding nearly hysterical. I knew how she felt. I wondered if she was going to start laughing.
    “What does it look like?” I sighed.
    She looked from me to Tack and back at the items in Dad’s hands. “You found this in his room?”
    “We found it,” Leslie spoke up, hastily stepping out of Tack’s reach.
    My dad looked at my brother, shaking his head. “What explanation could you possibly have for this, son?”
    “It’s not mine,” Tack repeated. “Yeah, it’s wrong to have it here, but I’m holding it for a friend. He’s diabetic.”
    I rolled my eyes and even my mom looked at him like she was calling bullshit.
    “Okay,” Dad sighed. “There are too many damn people in this room. Tabitha and Leslie get out.”
    Leslie had given Tack one last threatening look before we filed out. When we sat down on my bed, Leslie watched me nervously, waiting for me to break down and