Dirty Laundry

by Lauren Landish

  “Are you of relation?” asks the staffer. The logical side of my mind tells me that he’s just doing his job, but there’s another side of me, the scared, instinctive brother side, that wants to grab him by the scrubs he’s wearing and jack him against the wall.

  Instead, I bite down on my words and reach into my tuxedo jacket, finding my wallet. “I’m her brother,” I say, showing him my driver’s license. “And I’m her legal guardian. Now where is she?”

  The guy looks, then nods. “She’s in the ER, one of the exam rooms. I’ll have someone come to escort you.”

  “I’m not waiting,” I growl, rushing down the hallway, Roxy hot on my heels. I see a sign for the ER and turn, sliding slightly in my dress shoes on the linoleum. I see the doors up ahead, and as I reach them, a nurse steps out.

  “Mr. Stone, come with me,” she says, not fazed at all to see a man in a soot-stained tuxedo come running down the hallway. She leads us through, not saying much until she stops outside an exam room. “She’s in here. We’re waiting on some tests.”

  I nod and slide the curtain back, relief sweeping through me as I see Sophie. Thank God she’s awake, leaning back on the exam table as another nurse finishes wrapping up a gauze bandage around her head. She’s got the bandage and a bruise on the side of her face, but other than that, she honestly doesn’t look all that bad.

  “Okay, Miss Stone, just lie back and wait for the docs to come back with the results of the tests,” the nurse says. Seeing me, she gives me a professional smile. “Just a precaution. The doctors had your sister do some head X-rays. They should have them back shortly.”

  She leaves, and I walk over to the side of Sophie’s exam bed, worried. “What happened?” I ask, wincing inside at the anger in my voice. I don’t want to sound angry. I’m just worried. “Sophie?”

  “I got into an accident,” she says, sulking. I reach for her hand but she brushes me away. “I’m fine, they say I just hit my head pretty good. The doctor thinks I might have a mild concussion. They’re letting me go if the X-Rays look okay.”

  “Shit, I’m so sorry,” I whisper, wanting to hug her but not wanting to be rejected again. Instead, I’m forced to cross my arms over my chest to keep from reaching out. “I’m just glad you’re okay. How’d it happen?”

  Sophie turns her head and stares at me tight-lipped. With each passing second, the dread in my stomach grows. “Please don’t do this. Tell the truth, Sophie. Were you driving? Were you . . . drinking?”

  Sophie’s lip curls, her eyes flaring in hurt anger. “No, but Jax was,” she admits. “It was just one beer though!”

  Her admission hits me like a punch in the gut. “What?”

  “Jax!” Sophie half yells. “We were going out. He took a wrong turn and hit a pole.”

  Anger flares in my chest. I can’t believe this. A dark thing twists deep in my heart, an evil thing that I can’t control, and I grab the railing on Sophie’s bed, squeezing the metal so tightly that it starts to creak. “I thought I told you not to see him anymore!”

  “Yeah, well, you also told me you were going to spend more time with me, remember that?” she shoots back. “So sorry, Jake. I got bored when you kept going out all the time. You’re never around lately,” she says, not looking at Roxy but making her point. “He was giving me the attention I want. He at least would listen for longer than the ten minutes it takes to make eggs and hash browns!”

  I almost see red, and my hands pull harder, the railing on Sophie’s bed whining in protest. I hear Roxy gasp in hurt, and I stare at Sophie, my jaw clenched so hard my teeth ache. I could’ve lost my sister because of this fuck nut. I warned him last time, and then he goes and drinks before taking her out? I want to choke him with my bare hands.

  “I don’t give a fuck . . .”

  “Hey,” Roxy says softly, trying to place a calming hand on my shoulder, but I shrug her off, my temper on the edge of losing control.

  “That guy doesn’t give a shit about you!” I hiss at Sophie. “I could’ve lost you tonight!”

  Sophie stares at me coldly, unmoved. She looks at Roxy, then looks away. “You have a woman in your life. You don’t need me anymore.”

  Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. And it fucking hurts because lately, it’s true. I’ve been putting everything first but Sophie. “You know that’s not true,” I whisper. “You’re one of the most—” I catch myself. “You are the most important person in my life.”

  Sophie snorts. “Don’t lie to yourself, darling big brother. I’m at least number four or five on your list. But it’s okay, I know I’m a burden.”

  I open my mouth, about to yell at her, but Roxy tugs on my arm desperately. “Not here, Jake. This isn’t the time or the place for this conversation.”

  She’s right. Fuming, I spin on my heel and stalk out of the room. When I get out, I slam my fist against the wall, Sophie’s words echoing around in my head. She can’t understand. All of this has been for her, too!

  I turn to storm down the hallway. I need a drink, and I saw a Coke machine on the way here. Roxy is on my ass though, and I can hear her rushing to catch up with me. “Hey, wait up!” She grabs me by the arm, and I stop. “I know you’re mad and upset after everything that happened, but your sister has a point—”

  “That I put you before her?” I growl, staring at Roxy. “Yeah, she has a point. That I’ve just risked everything, rolled the fucking dice on my future, her future, Nathan’s future, everyone’s future on some stupid fucking fireworks. And I watched it all go up in smoke. I risked it all because I let my dick overrule my brain. Everything’s all fucked up right now. We’re all fucked up. I’m all fucked up. And to be honest, I don’t want to hear any shit about how terrible of a brother and guardian I am!”

  Roxy’s face goes white, and I hate myself for what I just said. I shouldn’t be talking right now. There’s so much emotion running through me that I don’t even know what I’m saying. “If that’s how you truly feel.”

  She turns and runs down the hall, bursting through the double doors and knocking an orderly out of the way. “Roxy,” I yell, trying to chase her. “Wait!”

  “Mr. Stone?” a voice calls behind me, and I turn to see a doctor with an obviously concerned expression on his face standing outside Sophie’s exam room. “Is everything okay?”

  I can see that the doc wants to talk about Sophie, and as much as it tears my heart out of my fucking chest that I can’t run Roxy down, I turn and slump against the wall. “No, everything’s not okay,” I whisper, rubbing furiously at my watering eyes. “But what’s going on with Sophie?”

  The doctor starts talking, but I’m having trouble focusing on what he’s saying.

  I shouldn’t have said what I said.

  Now both of the women I love most hate me.

  Roxy

  “It’s all my fault,” I wail, my eyes burning as I rock back and forth on my bed in my sister’s arms. “I nearly got you guys killed.”

  Mindy brushes my hair out of my eyes and gives me a comforting look. “Hush, baby girl, we’re all fine. I think Grandma even had fun.”

  “But I wrecked the club!” I cry. I don’t bother telling her that it was one of my band members who caused the fire, because it had been my idea to practice with the pyro in the first place.

  Mindy rubs my back, shaking her head. “So? They’ve got to have coverage. Nathan strikes me as the kind of guy who’d make sure of that.”

  “And Jake hates me!” I sob, collapsing as I ignore her attempt at practicality. I feel warm arms wrap around me, and I turn, burying my face in my sister’s chest as hot, bitter tears scald my eyes. “He practically said that I’ve wrecked everything!”

  “Hush,” Mindy says, stroking my hair. I have to hand it to Hannah. She knew exactly what I needed when I fled from the hospital, nearly sobbing already. She sent a few text messages, and less than ten minutes after we got home, there was a quiet knock and Mindy was there, changed out of her club wear. Without a wor
d, she bustled me into my room, stripped me down, and helped me into my fuzziest, fluffiest pajamas.

  Now, she’s doing what she does better than anyone in the world—comforting me. “It’s going to be okay, Roxy.”

  Mindy hugs me tighter, and I hold her close. “He hates me though. I’m sure Sophie hates me, too. I took him away from her, and that’s why she was out with Jax.”

  “Give him some time,” Mindy reassures me. “As for Sophie . . . I think we both know she didn’t see this Jax just because Jake wasn’t spending time with her. An older guy showed her attention and she liked it.”

  I sob. “I still fucked up everything. I feel so fucking shitty.”

  Mindy pushes my head back, looking me in the eyes with a stern but loving expression. “Don’t you dare put all of this on yourself, Roxy. Sophie’s young and was taken advantage of. If anyone is to be blamed, it’s that perv Jax. I’m of half a mind to have Oliver and Gavin pay him a visit.”

  “It’d just make everything worse.” I sigh, laying my head back on Mindy’s chest. “Min . . . I’ll never get another chance. I thought that this was going to be my big break. I’m so sorry, Mindy.”

  “Sorry for what?” Mindy asks.

  “That you came out here to see all of this mess.”

  Mindy chuckles and kisses me on the cheek. “Roxy, I seem to remember dragging you through a nest of lies for an entire week, all the way to the altar of a wedding, only to tell you that the whole thing was a charade. If that’s not an absolute mess, I don’t know what is.”

  “True, but you didn’t burn anything down,” I protest. “And you still ended up marrying Oliver.”

  Mindy laughs softly. “Baby, I don’t care if you blew up half the city. You’re still my baby sister and I fucking love you. You hear me? I fucking love you. And if Jake really loves you, he’ll get over his anger. He’ll realize that he’s wrong and come here crawling on his hands and knees to apologize for talking like an ass to you.”

  “I just don’t know . . . I really don’t,” I whisper. “It feels like my life is over.”

  “Well, if it is, then I’m ending your life in style. I noticed it before—you’ve got some Chocolate Cherry Garcia in your fridge, and I’m thinking the two of us need to carb up before catching some Zs. Oliver already knows I’m going to be staying the night, so you can’t chase me out.”

  I swallow my fresh tears, nodding. “Okay . . . if you say so.”

  “I do. Now let’s go get some chocolate.”

  Jake

  “What?” Nathan yells into the phone. “Listen, you stupid bitch, I already fucking told you four times that it was an accident. You know what? I’m done talking with you. Put your fucking supervisor on the line.” He shakes his head, growling deep in his chest. “What do you mean they’re unavailable? I don’t care if you have to route this to the fucking CEO. And yes, I’m saying it’s a fucking accident! Huh? Go fuck yourself.”

  Nathan slams down the phone, shaking his head angrily. “Jesus, and I thought those assholes at the SEC were bad. These insurance pricks make the SEC and IRS look like Mr. Fucking Rogers goes to Sesame Street.”

  I sit in my chair, gripping the glass of mineral water I’ve been sipping, wishing it were something stronger. We’re sitting in the back room of the club on two of the smaller couches that were saved from the mess that was the VIP section.

  The fire gutted a lot of the main room of Club Jasmine. The bar is a total loss, the marble top cracked and soot-streaked. As Nathan put it the first time we walked in yesterday, “Holy shit, there’s a fuckton of damage.”

  We’ve already started, financing everything through our own names and funds. It’s not much right now. I can hear the workers out front, a half-dozen guys clearing out the mess. While they do that, Nathan and I are back here, running numbers and trying to get the insurance company to get off their asses. If they don’t, a good chunk of our fortune is gonna go down the tubes and it’s all going be because of . . .

  A hard, bitter lump forms in my throat at the thought. I won’t let that angry, stupid fucking idea enter my head again. It’s not true. I’m just grateful that Nathan isn’t playing the blame game. Still, despite Nathan being my bro, despite all we've been through, I’d happily tell him to go fuck himself if he tried. I’m dealing with enough between Roxy and my sister.

  “Shit, man. I really hope they come through,” Nathan says after a moment in a calmer tone. When I don’t say anything, he glances at me and sighs. “It’s gonna fuckin’ hurt if they don’t.”

  “Did they?” I ask, already knowing the answer. I’m just still in a haze. I should be at Franklin Consolidated, but I talked with Elena this morning. She’s going to send all the files I need to look at electronically and keep me up to date on what I need to be there for. Right now, that place is the least of my damn worries.

  Nathan snorts. “Fuck, no. They’re dumb as hell. They’re saying they want the fire marshal’s report, and I told them five times I don’t have it. For fuck’s sake, I talked with the guy this morning, and he said that even a rush job would take him another week to get together. In the meantime, I’ve given them the video footage. We just need to get the fucking repairs underway.”

  I rub my face, feeling the unfamiliar rasp of stubble. I forgot to shave this morning. My head is pounding with a headache that should be in the fucking Guinness Book of World Records. Looking around the room, I sigh at how depressing it all is. I don’t even know why I came in. There’s nothing for me to do. At least Nathan can do his trading with his tablet. I can’t do half of my fucking job sitting back here.

  But while Franklin is my job, Club Jasmine was my dream. My way out. It was the thing that said I was working for myself, not for some nameless, faceless mass of shareholders and some board of rich assholes who wouldn’t understand what I’ve had to do to get to this point. Club Jasmine might have been just a nightclub, but it was magical when it was open. It’s my baby, and I feel compelled to check on it. Every day we’re closed is like a knife in my chest . . . and other than bleed money, there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.

  “How’s Sophie holding up through this?” Nathan asks after a moment. “I mean, the situation between you two.”

  “She’s not talking to me,” I say. “I was making progress before the accident. I mean, I thought I was. Sure, I’d spent a lot of time with Roxy and getting this place ready, but . . . now she’s down again. Maybe I said some things I shouldn’t have. I got so mad when I found out she was with the same asshole who brought her in here.”

  “You want to pay the fucker a visit?” Nathan asks. “I gave him a little speech before I let him go, but maybe he needs a little more convincing.”

  I think about it, then shake my head. “No. I’m still debating on it, but if I do, I’ll handle it myself.”

  Nathan snorts, shaking his head. “Teenage girls, man. Shit, even when we were teenagers, I preferred them older. I wouldn’t wish that death sentence on anybody. All hormones and Lifetime Channel bullshit.”

  Despite my sour mood, I have to chuckle at his crude way with words. “Sophie’s actually not that bad. In fact, up until now, she’s been practically an angel. I guess it was gonna catch up with me sooner or later.”

  “Actually, I’d say you’ve done pretty damn good with this.”

  I turn to Nathan, so exhausted and hurting that I speak my mind. “Nate, about the fire . . . I mean, you’ve gotta blame me some.”

  “Bullshit,” Nathan says with a harsh laugh. “I’m not a damn child. I agreed to the fucking pyro idea. Hell, I’ve spent days kicking myself over it, too. Roxy told me as they were getting on stage that they wanted to nix the pyro. I swear I passed it along. I even talked to the stage tech. He says the same. Nobody can find the damn pyro tech though. Someone didn’t get the fucking message.”

  “Sounds like there’s more than enough blame to go around and we all get to take a bite of the shit sandwich,” I whisper. “Thank you for telling
me.”

  There’s a knock at the door, and I get up, swaying as the room spins. Nathan’s up in a flash, patting me on the arm. “Yo, you go home, Jake. I got this shit. You go take care of Sophie.”

  I nod as Nathan leads me to the door. Opening it, we see John, who’s been acting as crew chief. He looks different in his old army pants and combat boots, good for the work at hand. “Nathan—”

  “Just a moment, John,” Nathan says. “Call Jake a cab, and then tell me what’s on your mind.”

  John nods and disappears, and I give Nathan a grateful but exhausted nod. “Thanks, man. I owe you.”

  Nathan shakes his head. “Don’t sweat it.”

  We pull up to the address that I got from Sophie’s phone, a medium-sized house in what looks like a middle-class neighborhood out in the burbs. Luckily for me, Jax is already sitting out on the porch with a blonde girl on his arm, talking, laughing, and carrying on like he didn’t just almost kill my sister. I know I told Nathan I was still thinking about this, but I can’t stop myself.

  Seeing him laugh and joke around makes me even more mad. I jump out of the car and shut the door just a little too hard before telling the cabbie to wait, stalking up the sidewalk to the house.

  Be careful, a little voice warns in the back of my head. You don’t want to do anything that you’ll end up regretting.

  “What’s up?” I ask casually as I walk up.

  Jax’s grins slowly fades from his face as he recognizes me, and he turns a little pale. “Nothing much,” he says finally, a cool note entering his voice. “Just chilling with my girl, Erica.”