Needing a drink to get me through, I turned away from Clara and descended the staircase. Clara followed me into the lounge. I headed past River, going straight for the liquor cabinet, grabbing the whiskey out of it. I whipped the top off and guzzled some down, feeling my shoulders relax as the amber liquid burnt my throat. Clara’s expression tensed, but she didn’t challenge me this time, probably knowing it was a bad time to do it. I was so close to really losing my shit, my little meltdown earlier not even a step on the ladder to insanity. I could feel it bubbling up, threatening to boil over. But the whiskey would calm it down, chill me the fuck out.
I walked over to the couch with the bottle and flopped down on it, feeling so fucking tired of putting on a face for everyone. Clara sat down on my lap, taking me by surprise. She leaned her back against my chest, her head on my shoulder. I felt some of the tension ease out of me, what she was doing making me feel better than the whiskey. She turned her head and kissed my cheek.
I breathed out a little easier, the comfort she was giving me the kind I needed. I didn’t want to talk, didn’t want her giving me pitying eyes, I wanted this. Touch. Closeness. Support without words.
She ran a hand down my other cheek, pulling my face towards her. I allowed it, giving her whiskey kisses. She didn’t complain, her tongue flicking out, licking the amber liquid off my lips. I went to flick my tongue out too, but stopped, movement out of the corner of my eye reminding me we weren’t alone.
I pulled away from Clara’s kiss and shot River a glare. “Fuck off.”
“You fuck off.”
I gripped onto the bottle, feeling like throwing it at him. But instead I just took another swig, pushing through my agitation. He raised a blond brow at me, then picked up the TV remote and switched it on, his attention drawn to some ad.
Clara pulled my face towards her and kissed me again, her other hand going to the bottle, alerting me to what she was up to. I allowed her to slip it out of my hand, preferring kissing her over drinking the booze, her kisses more intoxicating. I placed a hand behind her head, making sure she didn’t break the kiss once she got her prize. I not only needed her, I needed the distraction from all the things roiling in my head. It had been so fucking hard to keep it together today. So hard to listen to Bazza’s instructions about the job, when all I could hear was Jasper’s cries for his dad. It had been even harder when my attempts at jokes had met with anger from both China and Clara. I hadn’t thought about what I’d been saying, too caught up with the shit going through my head to realise I was being a right cunt to them. Then I’d taken my anger out on Clara and River, fully aware of what I was doing, but unable to stop myself.
And I was still angry.
Just...
Clara broke the kiss and latched onto my neck with her lips, causing some of that anger to dissolve a little. She pulled back and put the whiskey down on the floor, then climbed onto my lap and kissed me again, right in front of River. It was out of character, so fucking out of character it made me feel loved. She was doing this for me, even though it probably made her feel self-conscious. I placed a hand at the back of her head, losing myself in her kiss, River soon gone from my mind.
A scream ricocheted through the house, jolting me out of my reverie.
“What was that?” Clara said, looking frightened.
“My sister coming,” River replied in a bored tone, like he’d heard China scream a million times before. “She gets mad at Marino, he grovels, she refuses to accept his apologies, he gets mad and storms off. She rushes after him, begging for his forgiveness. He ignores her, she grabs his cock, and then, wham bam thank you ma’am, they’re going at it like jackrabbits. Every. Single. Time.” He shook his head and started flicking through the channels.
“Stop!” Clara yelled, making us jolt. She waved a finger at the TV. “It’s Buffy! I want to watch it.”
“No worries.” River flicked her a knowing grin. “Enjoy the trip.”
She ignored him, continuing to stare at the TV, looking like she was enraptured with it.
“You all right, Clara?” I asked.
“Shh,” she said. “It’s Buffy.”
River mouthed, ‘High’.
But she wasn’t, because thirty minutes later the marijuana hit her like a ton of bricks. She started giggling like a schoolgirl, wriggling about on my lap, giving me a boner.
I took hold of her hips. “Settle down, will ya? Even lap dancers don’t work that hard.”
She jumped off my lap and started dancing to the credits, yelling, “Spike rules, Angel drools!” acting like a little kid, not a twenty-four-year-old woman.
River jumped up too, hollering, “Angel rules, Spike drools!”
Clara spun on her heel and shoved him hard. “Spike is better than Angel!”
He righted himself, his surprised expression quickly morphing into a troublemaking smile. “No, Angel fucks Spike’s butt,” he said, obviously saying it to rile her, River living to piss people off. It was in his DNA. Whenever he found a niggle, he’d pick and pick at it until the person decked him or he pissed himself laughing.
Clara stepped closer to him, trying to get all up in his grill, although she was way too short to even come close. “Spike’s not gay! And Angel’s an emo twat!”
River sniggered, sounding like Muttley the dog.
“Ignore him, Clara,” I said. “He’s riling you on purpose. He doesn’t watch Buffy.”
“Yes, I do,” River said, lying through his pearly whites. “And Angel is the best character in the whole programme.”
“He is not!” Clara yelled. “He’s the worst!”
“The best! And Spike is ugly, speaks funny, and has herpes.”
“Vampires can’t have herpes.”
“He also has crabs and gonorrhoea—”
“Liar!”
“No, no, it’s true. Angel told me so. He said he gave them to Spike when he fucked him.”
Unable to help myself, I burst out laughing. Clara spun around, swaying a little, her eyes burning holes into me. “He’s lying, Spike’s not gay! And he doesn’t have gono...gonorrhoea.”
“And don’t forget the crabs,” River piped up.
Clara turned back to him, giving him another hard shove.
“Whoa!” he said. “Marijuana’s supposed to chill you out, not make you aggro.”
“You can’t speak bad of Spike. Spike’s the man. He’s better than you, better than Angel, better than Bazza.” She pointed to me. “Only Dante can beat him. No one’s better than Dante. My man’s like Spike on Viagra, he can give me multiple orgasms. Ha! So there.” She placed her hands on her hips, giving him a definitive nod, as though she’d laid down the law.
River knelt down in front of her and took hold of her hand. “I’m so very, very sorry, Ms. Clara. You’re right. Spike and Dante rule, while Angel drools.”
“You’re damn right he does.” She spun around and walked over to the TV, plonking herself down in front of it. “Buffy!” she yelled as another episode started. “Spike, Spike, Spike!” she chanted, pumping a fist in the air.
River’s eyes went to me. “Multiple orgasms?”
I smiled. “What can I say? I’m way better than Spike.”
River laughed. He headed over to the couch and sat down next to me. Clara stopped chanting, her attention transfixed on the TV.
River reached over and picked up the TV Guide, flicking through it. “Ha! There’s a Buffy marathon on. Your chick’s going to be up all night.”
I snatched the TV Guide out of his hand. “Damn, you’re not kidding. Well, at least it’ll keep her occupied.” I glanced down at my watch, wondering if I could pop out to make a quick call to my dad and be back without her knowing.
“Um,” River said, drawing my attention back to him, his expression surprisingly serious. “You know I didn’t mean what I said outside, right? I was just doing my thing, didn’t expect you to go berserk at me.”
“You were disrespectful to my woman.”
“I’ve said shit to other chicks you’ve banged and you didn’t say boo.”
“Clara’s different, and it’s not a good time to rile me.” I looked down at my hands, my mind once more going to Hemi.
“Why? You’re usually really chill.”
I looked up at him. “You hear ’bout the gang massacre in Auckland yesterday?”
“Yeah, it was all over the news.”
“That wuz my dad’s gang. My best mate wuz shot, his dad killed, along with some other mates of my dad.”
River’s eyes widened. “Skit!” he said, reverting to his Swedish lingo, whatever it meant. “I didn’t have a clue. Is that why you’re up here?”
I shook my head. “Nah, I’ve got other things goin’ on.” I let out a slow exhale. “Look, I fucked things up with my dad, said shit I shouldn’t have. I really needa call him back. Can you make sure that Clara doesn’t do anything stupid?”
“Sure, there’s no cow on the ice.”
I scowled at him. “Did you just call Clara a cow?”
He shook his head vigorously. “No, it means no worries.”
I pushed to my feet. “I’ll be back in a tick. Just keep your hands to yourself or I’ll—”
“Dude, I’m not risking touching her while she’s high.” He rubbed his chest. “Pot usually chills, not makes people vicious. Your chick may be hot, but she’s weirder than my sister, and that’s saying something.”
“Nah, she’s not weird, just not used to pot.”
“Which is why I don’t want her anymore. If a chick can’t handle a bit of weed, I’m not interested.”
I smiled at him. “Well, it’s a good thing she ain’t interested in you or your tiny dick.”
“Nope, not tiny, us Swedes put you Kiwis to shame in that department.”
“Dream on, and you’re half Kiwi.”
“Down there,” he pointed to his crotch, “pure Swede.”
I laughed. “More like a turnip. Just make sure she stays put,” I said, knowing he wouldn’t cross the line, River cool like that. I’d seen him drool over a number of chicks, coming onto them stronger than day old fish—until they turned him down. Then he was off looking for the next chick, not interested in wasting time on someone that wasn’t into him.
I took one last glance at Clara, who was still staring at the TV, and headed out the front door, aiming for the barn. I removed Clara’s phone from my pocket and keyed in my dad’s number. I was nervous as fuck calling him, especially after everything I’d said. But that was precisely why I had to call him. I’d gone a bit far, being too harsh on my old man. Yeah, I had to protect Clara, but he was still my dad and he definitely didn’t deserve half of what I’d said. I grimaced, knowing I’d hurt him. Especially bringing up my bro, rubbing their bad relationship in his face. I shouldn’t have stooped that low, and mentioning his mum, that was basically a kick to his balls.
His voice came over the line, cutting off my guilt mid-flow. “Dante?”
“Yeah,” I said, entering the barn. There was a red tractor inside, a loft above it, and a door leading to a separate room, along with stacks of wheat—or maybe it was hay.
“I didn’t think you’d call me back,” my dad said.
“Yeah, sorry ’bout that. I wuz a bit harsh on you, eh.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, and I’m not cutting you off. I love you, Dad.”
He went silent.
“You still there, Dad?”
He exhaled. “I thought you did an Ash on me.”
“I didn’t mean to, but you scared the shit outta me. I love Clara. Please don’t hurt her.”
“I’m scared too. Scared I won’t see you again. Scared she’ll hurt you.”
“She won’t and you’ll be seeing me soon enough.”
His voice perked up. “Are you coming back?”
“Yeah, I wanna go to Hemi’s funeral. When is it?” I asked, hoping it was after the job.
“Monday.”
“Good, I’ll be there,” I said, relieved I could make it.
He went silent again, the mention of Hemi’s funeral no doubt hurting him. I looked down at the dirt floor, wishing I could take that hurt from him. From me too. I wished it was something tangible I could throw away or stomp on, crushing it like it was crushing me.
“So, is it really true the coppers aren’t after me?” I said, willing my voice to stay steady, my grief welling up over Hemi’s death. No matter how much I laughed or smiled, I wasn’t happy. As I’d told Clara, it was all a lie, an act to distract or fool people into believing I was coping, while the beer, whiskey, and sex was a temporary salve for my soul.
“Yeah,” my dad answered. “You’re in the clear, though the coppers will wanna get a statement from you.”
“No worries, I’ll tell them all Clara and I did wuz kiss once. And that she’s not with me.”
“So, basically you’re gonna lie through your teeth, like you normally do?”
“You got a problem with that?!”
“Why are you barking at me? I ain’t threatening that pae... your woman. Just telling you like it is, telling you that you’re a liar like me.”
I frowned. “That’s a weird thing to say.”
“Nah, I am a liar. It’s a fact. My bullshit gets me through life like yours does for you.”
I didn’t reply, wondering why he was sounding all weird. My heart stopped a beat, thinking... No, he wouldn’t be on drugs. He hated them, was furious when he’d found out I was dealing. He wouldn’t be on drugs. He wouldn’t.
“Oi! Where are you, Dante?” River yelled out.
I quickly covered the phone and poked my head out the door. “The barn.”
River bounded towards me like a Golden Labrador. “You better get back inside, your missus tried to bite my neck. She thinks she’s a vampire.”
“Just stay out of her reach, I need another minute.”
River nodded and disappeared inside the house.
I uncovered the phone. “I’m back.”
“Who wuz that?” my dad asked.
“No one you know. So, how’s Jasper doin’? You told me jack shit earlier.”
“Physically, he’ll pull through, mentally he’s not doin’ so well. He had to be sedated after he woke up. He went ballistic, tryna hurt himself.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, it wuz pretty bad. Me and Killer are gonna go see him again.”
“How’s Killer doin’?”
My dad didn’t reply.
“You still there?”
“Yeah,” he grunted. “I’m stayin’ with him at the mo, making sure he’s all right.”
“That’s cool,” I said, thinking it wasn’t something I’d thought he’d do, especially since Killer usually pissed him off. “Though, keep one eye open when you sleep,” I said, half-jokingly. “He’s mad as a hatter.”
“Did you know he has a split personality?”
“No, but it doesn’t surprise me.”
“Well, it surprised me. Apparently, one side has a thing for me, while the other side has a thing for Rafael Sousa. And get this. Rafael is dating that side of Killer, or I should say Pain. Killer likes me, while Pain likes Rafael.”
“Rafael’s gay?” I said, more shocked over that than Killer having a split personality.
“Yeah, the fucker’s got it real bad for Killer, but Killer doesn’t like him, only Pain does. It’s weird as shit.”
“I can’t get my head around Rafael being gay, and fucking Killer, Pain, whatever. Would never have guessed he liked male arse. That is so gross.”
“What? Are you a fag hater?”
“Nah, don’t care who people fuck, just think it’s gross doin’ a dude. They’re like, a dude.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“Thought you’d say it wuz gross too.”
“None of my biz what fags do, as long as they don’t pull me into their shit.”
I sniggered. “Shit all right.”
He went quiet
for a few heartbeats, then lowered his voice. “How do ya think the bros will react to Rafael fucking Killer? Do ya think they’ll accept it?”
“A few will. The rest will pro’bly talk behind his back.”
“I don’t care what they say ’bout that prick, but I’m worried ’bout Killer. I don’t think he realises just how much the guys tolerated him cos of Hemi. But now Hemi’s gone, the bastards will pro’bly make it known to Killer exactly what they think of him. And he’s not sane as it is. I’m worried he’ll lash out, do sumpthin’ that’ll get himself hurt.”
“He’ll pro’bly be fine if Rafael hangs with him. No one’s stupid enough to take Raf on. They’d get their teeth knocked out.”
“Killer doesn’t like Rafael, only Pain does, so he won’t hang with him.”
“Then watch over him yourself.”
“Yeah, that’s the plan. And if you hear any shit ’bout me and Killer, don’t believe it. Rafael got the wrong idea when he found me at Killer’s house.”
I snorted out a laugh. “Don’t worry, Dad, I know you like pussy even more than me.”
“Yeah, pussy all the way.”
River appeared in the doorway, sounding out of breath. “I can’t wait anymore. I really need your help with your missus.”
I nodded at him. “Look, Dad, I gotta go. I’ll see you at Hemi’s funeral. Text this number with the details, ’kay?”
“Yeah, and thanks, Dante. I needed this call. I love you.”
“Love you too, Dad. Haere ra,” I said, saying bye in Māori.
I pocketed the phone and followed River back into the house. As soon as we entered the lounge, Clara ran at River, who shot behind me, yelling, “No biting, I smell like garlic!” She continued to chase him, the two shooting in and out of doorways, River shouting, “Save me, Dante!”
“Oi! Clara!” I grabbed her from behind, yanking her away from River.
She pulled out of my grip and tackled me onto the couch, giggling. Next thing, she was biting my neck, making me holler.
I pushed her off me. “What the fuck?” I said, rubbing my neck. “Keep your teeth to yourself!”
Jagged Pill (Broken Lives Book 3) Page 8
