“We don’t have time for this,” Kai steams, pacing the floor.
“I’ll come with you,” Alec announces, and acid races up my throat.
“N-No,” I stutter, blood coating my shaking hands. “You can’t go. You’re just a kid.” I laugh, but there’s no humor to it. It’s a frantic, fearful plea.
“Alec, I respect the hell out of you for offering, but your old man would take me to ground if I took you anywhere. Stay with your girl. I don’t need back up.”
“The hell you don’t, killer,” Jimmy growls as he walks into the room holding a shotgun. “But you have it. Alec, wake the place up. And tell Jackie and Barb to get this shit cleaned up. These motherfuckers will sleep through anything.”
It took twenty minutes for the doctor to arrive, and another fifty to dig the bullet out of Ice’s arm, stitch him up, and leave.
As soon as my dad and the rest of the brothers arrived back, I was sent to my dad’s room, and I’ve been here ever since. Showering the blood from my skin made me feel ill. Ash is gone. He was young, and now he’s bug feed. It physically hurts my heart to think of Alec patching in, leaving one night on a run, and coming back riddled with bullets. A sob catches in my throat. Grabbing a pillow from the bed, I hold it to my face so no one can hear me cry.
A light rap on the door sends my heart stammering. Shit. Throwing the pillow down, I swipe at my face and inhale a couple deep breaths before opening the door to see Alec freshly showered, a look of exhaustion on his beautiful face.
“Hey,” I say, limply, lifting a shoulder and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Hey.” He tries to smile, but it falls before ever finding purchase. “If I leave the door open, you want to sit with me for a bit and watch a movie? I can’t sleep.”
I lunge at him, wrapping my arms around his waist and burrowing my face in his chest. His hands stroke through my hair for a few silent moments. “Can we not do the slasher flick?” I mumble. “I can’t handle more blood tonight.”
“We can do whatever you want.”
This…holding each other…I want to do this forever…
Five
Alec
Seventeen years old
My stomach feels queasy from the beers being shoved at me all night. "Cheers," another brother bellows, and a chorus rings out.
"Another drink, kid?"
"No thanks." I shudder, and Jimmy roars with laughter, patting his meaty hand on my chest, rattling my ribcage. How the hell do they drink all day and night? My old man pulls Jackie onto his lap, slipping his hand up her skirt, gaining him a squeal, then a moan. He’s getting married to my mother again tomorrow. This will be the third time. They break up, divorce, and then get back together more than they have hot dinners. Even though she knows he's a cheating asshole, she constantly forgives and forgets—until she doesn't. Women are crazy.
"Smell that, boy." My old man groans, sticking his fingers under my nose. The brothers explode in amusement. Smells like I could catch something from inhaling that. She’s probably got half the brothers’ cum inside her. Whenever my dad gets back with my mom, for the first few weeks, he tells Jackie to fuck off, and she offers her pussy around his brothers to try to spark jealously. All it does is brand her less worthy of the ol' lady title.
"That's club pussy," he jeers, slapping her ass and grabbing a handful of her tits. "Come with me." He pushes her off his knee, and she slips into a new prospect’s lap. They call him Rage, a miserable, barely-contained mountain of fury. He frowns at her and pushes her ass to the floor, causing her spill a couple beers, which leaves her extremely unpopular to the brothers who are all intoxicated and want to stay that way.
"Bitch, you better get your fat ass to the bar."
"My ass isn't a fat, asshole,” she snaps.
"You fucking broke Rage's leg."
They carry on, throwing jabs back and forth, while my father walks me down the hall to my room, his hand on the back of my neck.
"Remember what I told you about women?"
"Yeah, Dad."
"Your mother fucked me up years ago and continues to torment me, making me pay for fucking weddings whenever she decides I’m good enough," he grunts. "Fucking bitches, all of ’em. Get in your head and play fucking games. They use their pussy to trap you." He turns me to face him and taps my chest. I catch a glimpse of Drew over his shoulder, her eyes popping wide when she sees the wall of my old man's back. Her dad's room is opposite mine. Rules are she stays in the room while they party, but Drew's a rule-breaker. It's that wild streak that makes her so fun to be around. She slowly closes the door, only leaving it open a sliver to watch us through the gap.
"Pussy is sweet, but you can get it free. You don't need to sell your fucking soul for it. Find a bitch who keeps your mind calm, your belly full, and…?" he urges.
"Your balls empty," I mutter, knowing Drew’s got to be laughing her ass off at me behind that door.
"Save your love for the road. If you give it to a woman, she’ll use it to control you—even after she's left you. Look at your mother."
I want to ask why the hell he's bothering to marry her again then, but I asked him that the second time, and he said it's cheaper to be married to her than not. Whatever the hell that means.
"Now, I said I had a gift for you." He grins, which looks weird on him. He never smiles. He's a six-foot-six, scar-battered, bearded monster.
He raps his knuckles on my bedroom door, which was empty when I left it a couple hours ago. Two seconds later, the handle drops, and the door opens.
What the fuck?
A young girl is standing there, finger in her mouth, tits on display, and black lace panties. "Don't tell your mother. Have fun." He shoves me inside and saunters off the way we came. My heart races a mile a minute. This naked chick is in my room looking at me like I'm her lunch after she skipped breakfast.
I don't look like a teen. I know that. Like my old man, I am tall and broad. Unlike him, I have a pretty face. Girls like me, and although I've had plenty of offers, I'd never done anything with any of them. I had urges like most teenage boys, I just took care of them with my right hand. People assumed Drew was my girl, and neither of us discouraged that. If I did anything with someone else, I feel like we'd lose that bubble I like being in. No one asks Drew out because of that, and it makes me happy—real fucking happy.
I turn around, my eyes landing on Drew's. She opened the door farther and is looking up at me through her lashes. She blinks rapidly and bites her lip, waiting to see what I'm going to do.
Fuck, what am I going to do?
She shrugs her shoulder and rolls her eyes like it's a no brainer. The woman wraps her arms across my shoulder and whispers, "You want me to make you a man, baby?"
I laugh, ducking my head and giving it a shake. Fucking her won't make me a man; it will make me a fool. Of course I know what to do. No one comes close to Drew. It's always been Drew.
"Nah. Feel free to stick around in here for a bit and tell my old man you did a good job, though," I tell her, walking out and closing the door, grinning when Drew opens hers wide, letting me inside.