Love Drunk (Broken Lives Book 4)

by Marita A. Hansen

  A male voice called out, “Dante Rata, please open the door or we’ll be forced to unlock it.”

  “Hold up, you woke me,” I said, wondering what the shit their problem was. I’d slept in before without issue.

  “Just open the door.”

  “Jesus, give a guy a break,” I said, sliding out of bed.

  I grabbed my jeans and pulled them on without underwear, then went for the door. It opened before I could get a hand to it. The same guard who’d eyed Kara up like a cock warmer stepped inside, along with the blond arsehole of a counsellor.

  “For fuck’s sake,” I snapped. “You have no right to come into my room.”

  “It’s not your room anymore, you’re leaving,” the counsellor replied.

  “Why the fuck for? My manager paid you lot a shitload of money for the month.”

  “Which he’ll be refunded in full.”

  “Are you kicking me out cos of Clara?”

  “No, you broke the rules, leaving the premises yesterday without permission. Not only that, you’ve been linked to a person who’s been charged with breaking into one of our counsellor’s homes, as well as attacking our receptionist’s friend.”

  My eyes widened. “What the fuck? Did you get Killer arrested?”

  “Not me, our receptionist laid the charges.”

  “But he didn’t do it!”

  “The police believe he did.” He smiled at me, obviously enjoying my upset.

  I closed the distance between us, wanting to smash the smarmy prick’s face in. The pissant quickly stepped behind the security guard, shying away like the coward I knew he was.

  “Pack your bags, you’re leaving now,” the chicken shit said, still hiding behind the guard.

  I sneered at him. “Fuck your rehab, it’s shit anyway.” Furious, I turned to my bed and snatched up the Bob Marley shirt that I’d worn the day before, yanking it on, then grabbed my bag, which I hadn’t unpacked yet. Once ready, the counsellor and the security guard escorted me to the reception, where Clara’s friend was glaring at me.

  She handed over my phone. “Good riddance.”

  I flicked her the finger and keyed in Jade’s number, snapping out, “Pick me up, I’ll explain later.” I hung up, giving the receptionist another glare. “You don’t know what you’ve done pinning this shit on Killer.”

  “What do you mean by that?” she said, a touch of worry flitting across her face.

  “I’d move if I were you.”

  The security guard stepped forward. “Don’t threaten her! And don’t think I’m not going to report what you just said.”

  “Report it, but I won’t be the one she’ll need to be worried about. She reported a gang member, you don’t do that without consequences.” I looked back at her, seeing her expression pale. She had every right to be scared, because one way or another, my club was going to come after her for what she’d done to Killer.

  Not saying another word, I headed for the door, already keying in my dad’s number, knowing he’d want to be brought up to speed about Killer.

  ***

  I tapped my foot against the floor, pissed off that Clara hadn’t stopped her mate from laying the complaint. I’d fucking told her I’d sort it, but what did she do? Let an innocent man get thrown to the lions... or more like the pigs. I looked across at the pig behind the desk. The copper was glancing at me every so often, probably thinking I was going to cause shit since I was so hyped. Nothing a few—or a hundred—shots of whiskey wouldn’t cure. I lifted my chin up at him, giving the nosey bastard a smile, knowing it would make him look away. And it did, the copper averting his gaze, back to minding his own fucking business.

  I leaned the back of my head against the wall, still irritated with having to wait for so long. The Skins’ lawyer was still in with Killer, taking ages talking to the cops, which meant that Killer probably didn’t have an alibi, the poor bastard up shit creek without a paddle.

  A hand landed on my thigh. “Calm down with the tapping, the police might think you’re high.”

  I smacked Jade’s hand off me. “Drugs ain’t what I want, and you know it.” I licked my lips. “Whiskey, vodka, I’d even take those girly drinks you like.”

  “Which is why you should never have left rehab yesterday. If you’d just done what you were supposed to, you wouldn’t have been kicked out. Your club’s lawyer will look after Killer, while you need to learn to look after yourself.”

  I gave him a sidelong glance. “That counsellor had it in for me. He would’ve used any excuse to kick me out.”

  “Regardless, now I have to find you a new rehab.”

  “Not interested.”

  He frowned at me. “It’s not a matter of whether you’re interested or not, it’s part of your contract.”

  “So, you’d tear the paperwork up all cos of rehab?”

  “You know that’s not why. You’re an alcoholic, Dante. You need to get better.”

  “I don’t need any help from useless counsellors, I’ll do it on my own.”

  “And how has that worked out for you in the past?” he asked, snidely.

  I sneered at him. “Fuck you, bitch.”

  His lips quivered. “I’m only doing this because I care for you, like your brother cares, your family cares.”

  I looked away from him, the bitch not adverse to using emotional blackmail against me. “Then hire someone to look after me at home. Get ’em to follow me around, making sure I don’t fall off the wagon. You’d pro’bly save a shitload doin’ it that way.”

  “Actually...” he drew out. “That’s not a bad idea, plus you could still work that way.”

  “Good, it’s sorted, hire whatever chick you want to baby me.”

  “A male will be a better fit.”

  I gave him a sly grin. “I’m not into male arse.”

  He scowled at me, knowing I was taking a jab at him. “And that’s why I’m not going to hire a woman. You’ll have her on her back within seconds.”

  “Nah, she’ll have me on my back, riding my cock like you want to.”

  “Dante! Show some respect, I’m your boss.”

  I shrugged. “You could be the Queen of England and I’d treat you the same.” I threw him another smile. “Actually, you are kind of a queen.”

  He grunted. “I really don’t know why I put up with you.”

  “Cos you looove me.”

  He didn’t reply, what I’d said true.

  The door that led to the interrogation rooms opened. But instead of Killer, some ugly sonofabitch with a pock-marked face stepped through the doorway. Annoyed at having to wait for so long, I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back into my chair, spreading my legs to get more comfortable.

  Jade muttered something, pulling my attention back to him. He was glaring at something across the room from us. I followed his gaze, catching a couple of birds eye-fucking me. Nothing new. If anything, Jade should be happy that the chicks liked me, especially since it would be money in the bank once I cut some music for him.

  “Quit glaring at your customers,” I said.

  He turned his head to me. “What?”

  “Those chicks. The more birds who fancy me, the more records you’ll sell. Money in the bank, dude.”

  He scowled at me. “There won’t be any records if you don’t stay clean. It’s going to be full-on hard work.”

  “As if. Singing and writing songs’ll be a walk in the park.”

  “There’s a lot more involved than singing and writing. Once the album’s released, we’ll have tour dates all over the country, interviews, then we’ll be going overseas. You’ll be hopping from hotel to hotel...”

  I raised a hand. “Hold up, you’re gettin’ way ahead of yourself. We hafta make the album first.”

  “I have all the songs ready, you just need to sing them.”

  I sat up straighter, not believing what I was hearing. “You said I’d be involved with writing the songs.”

  “You’ve been out of
commission for too long due to your drinking. I couldn’t wait anymore, so I had L write them.”

  I shook my head. “That wuzn’t the deal, I wanna sing my own work. I don’t mind L’s help, but I don’t want her doin’ everything. It’s me who has to sing it.”

  “L’s a brilliant writer and producer, and stop calling him a she. You know L goes by male pronouns.”

  “But she looks like a girl.”

  “She...” He grunted. “Now you have me saying it. He is intersex, and said that since he still has male parts, he’s a he.”

  “She has female parts too, or have you missed those tits of hers?”

  Jade’s lips pulled into a disgusted expression. “Don’t be so vulgar.”

  I grabbed my crotch. “You love it when I’m vulgar.” I flicked my tongue at him, laughing when he blushed.

  “Don’t do that in public,” he hissed.

  “Whatever, and back to L. I thought she wanted to get her clit of a willy chopped off.”

  “He’s rethinking it, getting a bit of cold feet. But he said that we’re to call him a he until he has the op done, so stop being so disrespectful.”

  “I’m not, it’s just hard callin’ L a he when she doesn’t look like one.”

  Jade threw his hands up. “You’re impossible, Dante.”

  “Don’t care, and I wanna hear L’s songs before I agree to recording ’em, cos if I don’t like ’em, I will be doin’ my own music.”

  “I’m paying.”

  “With my reputation if you give me shite music.”

  “The only reputation you have is you’ve slept with half of your neighbourhood.”

  I glared at him. “You’re this close to gettin’ that record deal shoved up your fuckin’ arse.”

  “Will you shove the money that comes with it up there too?” He did a little shimmy, obviously thinking he’d one-upped me. Bitch. Because he had. He grinned, knowing it.

  I gritted my teeth, and looked away from him, getting smiles from the women across from us, my gaze happening to fall on them. The bleached blonde pushed up from her seat, looking like she was going to approach me, but a flash of pink in my periphery caught my eye, drawing my attention to the station’s entrance.

  Clara stepped inside, wearing a long-sleeved gypsy top with tassels and a flowing skirt, so different to the conservative skirts and blouses she used to wear to class. I sat up straighter, the thought coming out of nowhere. I’d never remembered her from class, but there she was in my mind’s eye, standing in front of my Year Eleven English class, dressed in a pink blouse and a smart suit-like skirt, with her long blond hair tumbling over her shoulders.

  But here, now, she looked totally different... and even more appealing, especially with the way she was glaring at the woman heading my way, her jealousy making me smile. The fake blonde stopped a few feet from me and glanced over at Clara, probably checking what had caught my attention. Clara all but shot her down with one hell of an evil look. The blonde held up her hands as though Clara was pointing a gun at her and backed away slowly, obviously assuming Clara was my woman. Clara watched her until she sat back down, the whole scene amusing me no end.

  Clara turned her attention to me, giving me a scowl as though I’d invited the woman over. Having none of that, especially after what she’d done to Killer, I pushed to my feet and went to her.

  “What did I say ’bout Killer?” I said, stopping in front of her. “That I would take care of the situation.”

  “It wasn’t me, it was...” she petered off, withholding her friend’s name.

  “I already know that Betty Boop bitch dobbed Killer in, she admitted it. But you let her lay the charges, even though I said I’d clear things up.”

  She grimaced. “I didn’t let her, she’s her own woman, and in all truth, I don’t blame her for doing it, because he did look guilty. Georgie’s friend, the one who got attacked, lives in Clevedon, which is near your club.”

  “Well, it wasn’t Killer, cos he wouldn’t have left her alive.”

  She swallowed, looking like she well and truly believed me. “If he’s innocent, he’ll get off.”

  “As if. Killer isn’t lily white like you.” I flicked her nose, getting my hand smacked away.

  “Don’t do that,” she snapped.

  I sneered at her. “Then how ’bout you don’t assume the same rules apply to Killer as they do for your kind.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “My kind? I’m an ex con, so don’t play the race card.”

  “You went to jail for a reason, while the cops don’t need jack shit to lock Killer up. He just has to sneeze and they come down on him. Add the fact he has multiple personalities, and he has a whole squad up his arse when an accusation is pointed his way. The cops are pro’bly thinking his psycho side did this.”

  “Does he have an alibi?”

  “If he had, do ya think he’d still be in there?” I said, pointing to the door that led to the interrogation cells. “Nah, he’d be at the club, wanking off to one of my dad’s photos.”

  Embarrassment reddened Clara’s cheeks, her eyes flicking around to see if anyone had heard what I’d said. “Keep your voice down, remember where you are,” she hissed.

  I barked out a laugh. “Love, I’ve been in the cop shop more times than you’ve blown your pretty li’l nose, so I’ll say whatever I damn well like.”

  She lifted her chin up. “Not while I’m your counsellor.”

  “Haven’t you heard? I’ve been kicked out.”

  “I’m going to find a way to get you back in.”

  “Not interested, especially with your li’l boyfriend pulling the strings.”

  “Simon’s not my boyfriend. And I will do everything in my power to help you.”

  “Why bother? You don’t really want me there. You’d much rather I disappear so you can go back to your safe li’l world without me messing it up.”

  She frowned. “You’re not messing it up and I do want to help you, but on my terms.”

  “What terms?”

  “That you do whatever I say.”

  I winked at her. “Sure, love, I’m happy to do whatever you say.”

  She scowled at me. “Don’t turn this sexual.”

  I sniggered, the woman so easy to wind up.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “You are so rude.”

  “State the obvious, why don’t cha. By the way, how’ja find me?”

  She indicated to Jade. “He told me where you were.”

  I glanced at Jade, surprised the jealous bitch had offered up info to a chick.

  His gaze went between us. “I thought she was calling to take you back to the clinic.”

  “I needed to ask Dante if Killer was innocent,” Clara said, “and if he was, I was going to clear Killer’s name.”

  I smiled down at her. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, giving me a soft smile in return, her annoyance gone in a second.

  Silence fell between us, the both of us just standing there, staring at one another, Jade all but disappearing. But it didn’t feel awkward. Instead, she made me feel safe, which was strange, considering where I was, cop shops always making me feel uneasy.

  I took a step closer, a whisper away from pressing myself against her. She didn’t retreat, just kept staring up at me. She looked so small, much smaller than my memory of her standing in front of my English class. But it didn’t detract from how fine she was, the woman definitely my type. Kara was my type too. If anything, Kara and Clara resembled each other quite a lot, my two aras remarkably similar in looks, just with very different styles.

  “You remind me of my ex, even have a similar name,” I said, lifting my hand to touch her hair. She didn’t move away, didn’t say anything either. “You’re also possessive like her. You stared down that chick like you own me. Kara does that too, along with other things.” Violence one of them. I lowered my hand. “What makes you that possessive? You said you used to love me. D
o you still love me? Or do ya just wanna get with me?”

  “I... I can’t be with you.”

  “I’m not asking you to, just wanna know why you stared down that chick. And if you love me.”

  “I never said I did.”

  “You look at me like you do.”

  She didn’t reply, her cheeks flaming up like candyfloss on a summer’s day.

  “So, you do still love me,” I said, the woman not denying it.

  She pulled a face, clearly uncomfortable, her silence reinforcing my thoughts.

  I continued, “If you love me, why aren’t you tryna get it on with me?”

  “I’m your counsellor.”

  “Not anymore, and at least it’s better than bein’ my teacher.”

  She scowled at me. “Stop bringing that up.”

  “Fine.” My gaze returned to her hair. “By the way, why pink?”

  Her scowl dropped, embarrassment once more taking over. “You said pink would look good on me, that or lavender.”

  “Your favourite colour.”

  Her eyes went wide. “You remember my favourite colour?”

  I shook my head. “You wear a lot of purple, I just assumed it wuz.”

  Disappointment crossed her face. “Oh.”

  I touched her hair again. “I like this colour better than your blonde hair.”

  Her face lit up. “You remember that?”

  “I already told’ja I did.” I licked my lips. “It looked sexy as fuck when I wuz fucking you on your desk.”

  Her face went even brighter. She opened her mouth, but whatever she was going to say was cut off by a familiar voice hollering my name. My dad barrelled through the station’s front entrance, the smile on his face directed at me. I stepped around Clara to greet him, not surprised that he’d turned up to make sure Killer was all right. Despite running from his ex, I got the distinct impression he’d prefer to run back to him.

  My dad pulled me into a hug. “Good to see ya, son,” he said, giving my back a friendly, but hard slap.

  I let go of him. “Yeah, ’bout time you came back to Auckland.”

  “I told’ja I would, plus there’s no way I’d let Killer go to jail.” He rummaged in his leather jacket, pulling out wads of cash. “Got a shitload of money to bail him out.”