“Eighty-sixed. You got it, Princess,” Ronan says before carrying the girl out the front door.
Briar jolts awake when Molly kicks his boot, but he’s slow to respond.
“Baby?” The pain and love I hear in his voice is all the confirmation I need for the way he feels about her.
“Where did she go?” Briar asks the same time my sister reaches for him and says, “A little help, TJ?”
I can’t help the chuckle that slips out because this situation is just as messy as the one I placed myself in with Kaci.
“Why were you letting that girl lick all over him?” Molly asks as I help hoist Briar’s heavy body up to standing.
Irritation flares. I can’t be fucking responsible for every damn person in the world. I’m not Briar’s keeper.
“He’s a grown man,” I remind my sister. “I’m not his mother or his warden.”
“He was passed out, shithead,” she snaps.
“Such a pretty mouth saying such nasty things,” Briar slurs.
“He wasn’t passed out when they got started.” Pain multiplies like pressure in a dropped can of soda in my gut when I see her face fall. Apparently, she’d let herself believe that chick was acting on her own accord without an invitation.
Hurting Molly is the very last thing I want, but sometimes the asshole in me escapes before I can close my mouth.
“I was going to kill her instead of you,” Briar whispers. He’s talking to Molly, but his head is right beside my ear, so I hear the words meant only for her.
Briar is a brutal motherfucker, but he’d never lay a finger on a woman unless she deserved it, and although he didn’t really want that chick tonight, she didn’t do anything to deserve being hurt. I take his words as a joke, even though the thought of what it means in my head makes me want to cringe.
“You drank a little too much to be murdering anyone’s pussy, bro.” I cringe at my words as I help Molly get Briar onto his bed. My sister is grown by legal standards, but she’s a few years past ripe for club standards. Lynch and I got an extra early start when it came to sex. I pray Molly is untouched, but it’s not something I want to think about.
“You coming?” I ask her as I back away from the once again passed out VP.
She shakes her head as she continues to stare down at Briar.
“Be careful, Princess,” I warn as I kiss her forehead before leaving the room.
Against my better judgment, I whistle at Legs from the entryway to the living room. She pops off Hornet’s dick as if it’s spring-loaded and follows me down the hallway. I can’t even revel in his curses as we walk away. I have no ties, no strings to anyone, but guilt still washes over me when I close us into my bedroom.Chapter 9Kaci
I fed off the pain my father’s words stabbed me with for the better part of a week. Today, I’m restless once again. I don’t often drink alone, and recreational drugs are meant to be used in social settings. I’m not so far down the rabbit hole that I snort coke when I’m home alone, but today I’m considering it.
I eat my tacos from Tito’s at the restaurant all while pretending I’m interested in the soccer game playing on the widescreen TV above the bar. The guy that is always standing on the front stoop of the liquor store was nowhere to be seen when I walked by earlier, and even the laundromat was missing its usual criminal vibe.
I’m waiting in Tito’s until the sun fully sets. Maybe the deviants don’t come out until the light leaves the sky. Normally, I’m not roaming around this early, but my fridge is empty, and I can’t be bothered to go grocery shopping.
Walking home delivers the same less than stellar thrill that walking to the restaurant did. It’s quiet, and unfamiliar, but the sinister feeling of someone lurking in the shadows doesn’t hit me tonight. It’s as if the slums of Andover have grown a conscience since my last trip down the street.
The creepy vibe I couldn’t find on the way to get food renews full force when I reach my door. A card is closed in the door, and from the looks of it, the only way that could’ve happened is if someone opened my door to put it there. I pull the card out and push my door open, but I’m only greeted by darkness. Whoever it was didn’t bother to lock the door, but they don’t seem to be waiting inside either.
The rush of my blood echoes in my ears as I step inside and close the door without bothering to turn on a light. Standing in the middle of the room seems ridiculous after several long minutes of hearing nothing but my own breaths, so I click on my bedside lamp and stare down at the card. When I finally get around to turning it over to read, I realize just how crazy it is to be invited to party on a hand-written note. I don’t have friends. There isn’t anyone I speak to with any regularity. Hell, I only see my parents once a damn year.