My phone vibrates from my pocket. I pull it out to see a picture of Lo waiting for me. A picture of Lo’s tattoo, more specifically. She’s on that pathetic excuse for a bed at Henry’s, legs bent, showing off the curve of her perfect ass. She’s wearing those knee-high socks she likes. No pants. No underwear. Her shirt has ridden up, exposing fingertip-shaped bruises in various stages of healing that go with the scratches down my back and teeth marks on my shoulders. My dick is instantly hard, which is unfortunate, seeing as how I have a girl in my chair who’s eyeing my lap like it’s hard for her.
“You ready?” I ask dryly. This chick has taken approximately eighteen cigarette breaks, two phone calls, and one pee break for a tattoo of a dreamcatcher that should’ve taken thirty minutes, tops.
Once I’m finished with my client, I excuse myself to the drawing room. I’m still fucking hard, and I’m half-tempted to rub one out right here and now to the memory permanently seared into my spank bank of the last time we were in here together. I was helping Lo get dressed, but I ended up eating her pussy. I hadn’t even meant to do it. It was instinct. Completely involuntary. Then I was surprised, yet again, when Lo dropped to her knees and gave me the best head of my life.
I sit at my desk, dick threatening to bust through my jeans, and tap out my reply to Lo.
Me: Are you teasing me, Sally? I want to see that in person.
Me: You know, to make sure it’s healing properly.
Lo: Day after tomorrow, unless seeing a bunch of sweaty, half-naked men is your idea of a good time.
Me: Come again?
Lo: Jess has a wrestling match. Going to Sac.
I debate on taking her up on her non-invitation. Crowds, family outings, and events, stuck with people in a confined space for an hour and a half drive…all things I avoid like the plague. But for some reason, I find myself willing to do just about any-fucking-thing to get my fix.
Me: Count me in.
* * *
“FUCK,” JESS SAYS UNDER HIS breath, rousing me from sleep. I lift my head from his shoulder and rub at the kink in my neck. I didn’t mean to sleep almost the entire way home. I was exhausted after a long day of driving and watching Jess wrestle. That shit was an all-day event. Then Dare and I did a little wrestling of our own in the back of his truck late last night.
Dare drove separately so he didn’t miss work. I was surprised he wanted to come at all, but he did. It was fun to see Jess out there, doing his thing. I don’t know the first thing about wrestling, but I do know he won all three matches and looked happy doing it.
We went out to some Mexican restaurant afterwards, and I sat back while Dare, Henry, and Jess shot the shit, thinking how crazy it was that this is my life now. Two months ago, if you would’ve told me I’d be enjoying a meal with my brother, my dad, and my new boyfriend, I’d have thought you were as high as my mother.
“What is it?” I ask groggily, before my eyes land on the ball of purple curled up on the porch. I’d recognize that jacket anywhere. “Shit.”
“Crystal’s back.”
“Son of a bitch. This isn’t gonna be pretty,” Henry says, throwing his Jeep into park.
“How long has it been since you’ve seen her?” I ask. I always wondered if Crystal ever tracked him down. He left me his phone number, but I tucked it away, never once showing it to Crystal.
“The day I left.”
“You okay, Jess?”
“Fine,” he says, shrugging, feigning indifference.
We all hop out, stopping in front of Crystal’s slumped over body.
“Think she’s dead?”
“Nah. I’m not that lucky,” Jess says, nudging her with his foot. Crystal stirs, lifting her head. Mascara is smudged down her face, and her wrinkles look even more pronounced than before. She looks around, probably trying to figure out where she is. She rubs her eyes, and I see when the confusion clears.
“My babies!” she yells, and her pack-a-day voice grates on my nerves already. She stands, stumbling, and moves to hug us. Jess catches her arm before she makes contact, and we both take a step back. Hurt flashes in her eyes briefly, but she conceals it just as fast.
“Henry,” she breathes, looking up at him like he hung the moon. “It’s been a long time.”
“There’s a reason for that, Crystal.”
“Come on, guys. Don’t be like that.”
We step around her, and Henry unlocks the door.
“Got room for one more?” Crystal asks, not waiting for an answer. She follows us inside, looking around the place. Not one of us speaks. We know her game by now. But Crystal is an expert at avoiding social cues.
“I can’t believe my family is back together again,” she says, bringing a hand to her mouth as the crocodile tears start. My mom was beautiful once. But then drugs and life happened.
“Go home, Crystal,” I say, shaking my head, quickly losing patience.
“Oh, I see how it is. You guys find someone else to take care of you, to give you a place to stay, and all of a sudden I’m chopped liver?”
“And there it is,” I say flatly. Jesse exhales, throwing himself down onto the couch. Henry grabs himself a beer from the fridge, probably wishing he had something stronger right about now.
“I know I fucked up, but what mother doesn’t?” Her speech is slurred, and I know she’s high on something. “I’ll be better, Logan.”
I don’t respond. I don’t even look at her.
“Jesse?” she pleads, looking to him for acceptance, but she doesn’t find it there, either.
“I can forgive you for sending me to jail, but you can’t forgive me? Un-fucking-real. I did everything for you two!”
This is it. This cycle right here. Cry, beg for forgiveness, lash out when she doesn’t get her way, and repeat. My anger bubbles inside me, threatening to boil over.
“You forgive me?” I ask, my voice deathly calm and quiet. “What exactly should I forgive you for? For letting your boyfriend beat on us? For being a fucking junkie? For abandoning your children with no money or food for months at a time? Or maybe it’s for fucking my boyfriend after you sent me to the store to buy you smokes. Oh, or maybe I should forgive you for stealing Jesse’s brand-new bike just to pawn it?” My voice rises with each question, my face inches from hers. “Should I forgive you for chasing away our father? The only fucking halfway normal person in our lives?” I shout, pointing toward Henry.
Crystal surprises me when she cackles, her eyes lighting up with glee. I don’t trust it. She looks at Henry. “You didn’t tell them why you left?”
“Crystal. Don’t,” Henry warns.
My stomach twists with nerves, and I just know whatever comes next isn’t going to be good.
“They deserve to know.”
“Get out. Now,” I say between clenched teeth. Jesse stands, suddenly interested in the conversation.
“Deserve to know what?”
“Don’t pay any attention to her. This is what she does. She’s jealous of our relationship with Henry and she’ll do anything to sabotage it. Isn’t that right?”
“I am your mother!” she screeches. “He isn’t even your dad!”