My saving grace was that Ash had landed a few good blows causing my cheek and my right eye to bruise.
Add that to the cuts on my knuckles, and I could fake it that I was sore, I could make it look like I was depressed as hell.
All I had to focus on was the fact that one of my best friends was hurting and that my love for my other best friend would one day kill me.
Happiness. Gone.
I jerked open the door to the guest room, and when a shadowy figure pushed off the wall, out of instinct, I reached for my gun in the back of my jeans.
Nixon frowned. “Are you going to shoot me?”
“Depends. Are you going to scare the shit out of me all the time?”
He looked over my shoulder. “Where’s the girl?”
I shot him a smug grin and patted him on the shoulder. “We all have our secrets, Nixon, right?”
His eyes narrowed. “I heard her.”
“Yeah, I did too.” I started walking down the hall. “Allll night long.”
“Really?” Nixon scowled. “Where do you find these girls?”
“Eh, you’d be surprised…” I shoved my gun in the back of my pants again. “Some may say they just fall right into my bed, no questions asked.”
“Who falls into his bed?” Breaker asked from the kitchen, holding a glass of orange juice in one hand and bacon in the other.
“Some girl.” Nixon sighed. “She snuck out already, though. According to Romeo over here.” He jabbed a hand in my direction.
Breaker choked into his orange juice and then rasped, “Yeah, bet she did, because that’s so easy to do in this house, sneak in and out, right Junior?”
I flipped him off, knowing exactly where he was going with that, and I was still pissed at him, which meant I owed him one. “Hey, Nixon, did you know Breaker had his tongue down Serena’s throat last night for three-point-two seconds?”
“BETRAYER!” Breaker threw his bacon at me. “After all I do for you!”
“WHAT?” Nixon roared.
Breaker ran to the other side of the table and held up his hands.
“You did what!”
“I was teasing her!” Breaker argued. “Plus, Junior’s just trying to—”
“Why is everyone yelling?” Serena waltzed into the kitchen, leaned up on her tiptoes, and kissed her dad on the cheek.
His anger disappeared as he pulled her in for a hug. “Nothing, just don’t let Breaker’s dirty mouth anywhere near yours.”
“Ew, he tasted like gin.”
“See!” Breaker really needed to stop talking. “If I were actually meaning to kiss her, I’d drink whiskey. You know she likes the taste better, right Junior?”
I glared. “How the hell would I know where Serena puts her mouth?”
Serena started charging toward me.
Here we go, back to the hate. I waited for her to punch me in the face.
Instead, she grabbed a fork and held it dangerously close to my cock. “What was that Junior?”
I grinned. Did she have to be so damn pretty? Her eyes were wild, outlined in black, her lipstick was pale, her blond hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, and she was wearing the tightest black jeans I’d ever seen, not to mention a tank top that showed a bare midriff. “Nixon, don’t you think she should put a sweater on or something?”
Her eyes widened even more as she lowered the fork.
Nixon sighed. “Serena, don’t castrate him. We may need him later. And he’s right, put on a cardigan or something.”
“Fuck!” Ash’s voice sounded from somewhere in the room. “Could you guys please keep it down? I’m trying to die in peace!”
I saw a flash of color; he was in the living room lying on the couch with an empty bottle in one hand as he stared up at the ceiling.
Breaker, Serena, and I all shared a look before Nixon sighed and said, “We have to wait for everyone else anyway.”
“What for?” Serena asked.
Nixon gulped and then, “Funeral preparations.”
Shit.
In an instant, I was up and making my way over to Ash. He looked like complete shit, both eyes were swollen, one almost completely shut, thanks to my right hook, his body had a few bruises near his shoulder, and his knuckles had dried blood on them. He must have crashed on the couch without bothering to take a shower last night.
“Bro…” Breaker sat on the floor next to him. “You smell like shit.”
“Go away.” Ash covered his face with his hands. “Please.”
“Can’t do that, cousin.” Serena helped Ash to his elbows then scooted underneath him, cradling his head in her lap. “What do you need? What’s going to make you feel better right now?”
“Death.”
“Other than death,” I snapped. The last thing I needed was to lose him too; the last thing he needed was to lose someone else.
When did things get so messed up?
And how the hell were we going to survive, not just Claire’s death? But mine if it came to that? How?