Famished (The Broken Series)

by Ellie Messe

  “No. Well, yeah. But not because I was sad.”

  “Seriously?” Lynch speaks for the first time, “You look like your goldfish just died.”

  “I don’t have a goldfish.”

  “Do you want one?”

  “What? No.”

  “Is it cause you think it’ll die?” He gives me a sympathetic smile as he nods his remorse. It’s enough to make me crack a smile.

  “No, I was watching cheesy Christmas movies and I’m a sucker for a happy ending.”

  Lynch starts to laugh, Moose gives a hardy harrumph, and my dad just stares at me like I just lit up a roll of cat food and proceeded to smoke it.

  “Christmas movies?” He asks, “Made you look like that?”

  “Shut up,” I shoo him away from my spot before sitting down, “I’m a girl. I’m allowed to be emotional over stupid shit. You’re not allowed to judge.”

  “Oh, but I’m definitely judging you right now.” Lynch laughs, “They’re so lame.”

  “You’re lame.” I counter back.

  “I like ‘em.” Moose defends.

  I smile at him as my dad and Lynch both call him out.

  “You’re a kiss ass.” My dad smiles at him.

  “I do like them.”

  “I’m thinking about returning your ape bars for a pack of tampons.”

  “Why, when I can have the one shoved up your ass?”

  Lynch and I both laugh at their banter, each of us sharing a silent conversation with the other. I haven’t seen this side of my dad before. He’s usually brooding and ornery. I have to admit it; I like this side.

  “I like the way the string tickles my balls.”

  My eyes grow to the size of saucers as a true, genuine, laugh burst through my mouth. “Oh, my god!”

  My dad shrugs and smiles back, “Nothing wrong with a little kink.”

  “Ah, stop talking!” I laugh harder. “There are things I don’t need to know.”

  He chuckles a moment before swatting my knee, “We’re doing a potluck at the clubhouse. You wanna come or get back to your ugh…” Glancing at the mess of half eaten cookies and then the T.V. his hand smooths across his jaw, “Sappy shit?”

  “You should come. Lynch got me a new poker set. I need someone worthy to break in the new deck.”

  “It’ll be fun. I’ll even turn on some shitty movie on the T.V. if you want.”

  My mouth goes to say no when my head decides to act on its own. My dad is almost as surprised as I am when I nod. I’m not sure why I do it, but spending the rest of the day on the couch just isn’t as appealing to me now as it was ten minutes ago.

  “Let me put real clothes on and I’ll be right out.” Standing, I make a half twist before my finger points at his chest, “But I’m driving myself. No way in hell I’m getting on the back of bike when it’s this cold.”

  My dad nods his approval even when Lynch coughs, ‘Pussy.’ Into his palm.

  I offer him my favorite finger as I walk away.

  Maybe today I’ll live out my own little Christmas movie. I almost snort to myself as I enter my bedroom. Yeah, fucking right.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Emma

  Everyone kept their word. There’s literally a mountain of food spread across holiday themed tablecloths, a corny Lifetime movie playing above the bar, and stiff, never before played cards in my hand. It’s not too shabby and dare I admit it, even to myself, I’m having fun. The new deck keeps sticking together and I find endless enjoyment in Moose’s colorful insults each time it happens. So far, he’s called this current deck a ‘Cunt wrangler’, ‘Prick sniffer’, and my personal favorite, ‘Tit shit’.

  Watching him redden from frustration, I feel my phone buzz.

  DREW: Merry Christmas, Angel.

  ME: Merry Christmas, Tiger. I hope you’re having a good day.

  DREW: The best. How goes yours?

  ME: Good. Decided to go to the clubhouse.

  DREW: You promised.

  ME: I didn’t get lonely. They came by the house and invited me to come over so I did.

  DREW: [ATTACHED IMAGE]

  Clicking the download another message goes through.

  DREW: This would taste better spread between your thighs.

  An image of mashed potatoes covered in gravy appears and I snort.

  ME: And here I was expecting chocolate or strawberries.

  DREW: Fuck that. I’m hungry in two ways, Sunshine. Sex and food. I need a real woman and real food.

  “Hey, kid. Stop texting your boyfriend and play or save yourself the humiliation and give me your money now.”

  I snort in protest, “You’re not walking away with a dime, Old Man. I’m taking the pot.”

  “Oh, is that so?” He leans forward on the table, “I believe I collected fifty or so bucks from you the last time. Your pride is paying for my bike build.”

  ME: Whatever tough guy. I gotta go whoop Moose’s ass in poker, enjoy the rest of your Christmas.

  “Alright, Old Man. Ante up so I can kick your ass.”

  Pulling up into garage, I still wear a smile. Not only did I walk away with forty bucks of Moose’s money, but I also got an additional thirty-two from the guys who joined in later. All in all, my day was fantastic. My dad stayed friendly, no one complained about the movies, and I ate twice my bodyweight.

  Noticing Drew’s bike parked outside, I enter the house quietly in case he’s sleeping. It’s only a little after midnight, but he doesn’t keep a very strict sleeping pattern and I don’t want to be rude.

  That thought is wasted when I catch sight of him sitting on the kitchen counter, a tupperware container in his hand.

  “Hey, Angel. How was your Christmas?”

  “Good.” I tell him, placing my purse and keys on the island next to him. “How was yours?”

  “Oh, man!” He exclaims around a mouthful of food, “It was fucking fantastic! Not only did Parker and Haley make up, but she decided to stay too! That and my uncle popped the question to my aunt.”

  “Oh, my God, really? That’s awesome.” I love, love stories.

  “I know right? I’ve been bumming hard since she came back cause she was saying she was gonna leave the first and no matter what I did or said I couldn’t get her to stay, I was honestly considering permanent kidnapping.”

  I chuckle, “Being kidnapped isn’t fun; trust me I’d know. Not that Haley staying here isn’t awesome, but I was talking about your aunt and uncle.”

  “Trust you, you’d know?”

  Staring at him, I try to catch on to what he’s talking about but come up empty. “What are you talking about?”

  “You said, being kidnapped isn’t fun, trust you, you’d know.”

  Oh, God. That totally slipped out without me realizing it. “Oh, nothing.”

  “No, no, no,” He sings, setting his food down, “What?”

  He eyes me in a way I can read his mind. He’s trying to find out if I was serious but fighting the realistic thought that that would be unheard of.

  “Really.” I try to laugh off, “It’s nothing.”

  “You weren’t kidnapped.” He pulls back incredulously, though his eyes still fight with the truth, “Were you?”

  “Not exactly.” Again, I try to laugh it off. “I’m glad Haley is staying. So, her and Parker made nice?”

  “Don’t you dare.” He scolds.

  I sigh, “It’s seriously nothing.”

  “Then define nothing.”

  “My mom’s a junkie. When she racked up too much debt her dealer would use me to make her come out of whatever hole she was hiding in and pay up. It’s not as bad as it sounds.” I brush it off like it’s nothing.

  “Not as bad as it sounds? Sounds like you were kidnapped by a drug dealer like a bad action movie.” I roll my eyes at him pointedly, “And biker dad let that slide?”

  “Nah, that’s why I’m here. He came and got me. Didn’t want me mixed up in that lifestyle.”

  “Where’s yo
ur mom now? California?”

  “Yep.” I nod, ignoring the twinge of pain in my chest. God only knows if she stayed in rehab or if she’s bathed or fed. Being here has had a far greater impact on me than I care to admit but I still wish I could check on her from time to time. My dad claims he calls the facility she’s supposed to be at to check her progress but who knows if that’s true or not.

  “Did you do drugs there?”

  “Wow, just jumping in there aren’t you?”

  “Pretty much. So, did you?”

  “A couple times. Mostly party drugs; ecstasy, coke a few times, and then weed when I was younger. What about you?”

  He shakes his head, “Thought about smoking weed a few times but never went through with it. Was too paranoid Josh would find out.”

  “Like he hasn’t done it.” I laugh to further the topic in this direction rather to the past I’d personally like to forget.

  “Meh, it was a different time when him and my parents were younger. Weed was nothing. Nowadays that shit will get you locked up. He was always on us about being healthy and not taking shortcuts. I think he was worried we’d use it as a vice to cope with our parents rather than face it and move through it.”

  “How old were you when it happened?”

  “When my parents died?” I nod, “Twelve, but I was still struggling through it up until a few years ago. Chick’s love a broken man.” He wags his eyebrows and smiles.

  “No more than a man wants a broken girl, I’m sure.”

  Both of us kind of go quiet after that. It isn’t until Drew clears his throat that I look up at him.

  “So, drug dealers huh?”

  “Oh, god.” I giggle. “Let it go.”

  “Ever been to jail?”

  “Like arrested? No. I’ve been there to pick my mom up from the drunk tank on more than one occasion though.”

  “Ever broken a bone?”

  “No. You?”

  “I broke my arm and three fingers playing football my senior year of high school and then I broke my ankle jumping off the back of a moving vehicle.”

  “You sound wild.”

  “That I was.”

  “So, what changed?”

  “I had to pay my own hospital bills. Doing stupid shit just isn’t as fun when you have to flip the bill.”

  “Like you can’t afford it.”

  “I can.” He nods, “Doesn’t mean I want to. Insurance is expensive enough as it is.”

  “I wouldn’t know.” I shrug off.

  “You still on your parents?”

  At this I openly laugh, “I don’t think I’ve had medical insurance a day of my life.”

  “So, what do you do when you go to the hospital or get sick? Just pay out of pocket?”

  I shrug, “If I had to go I guess I would have to. Never been sick enough to go to doctor. Apart from the occasional headache, I’m never sick.”

  “Ever?”

  “Nope.”

  “I’ll trade you my bike for your immune system. I fucking hate being sick.”

  “I bet you handle it like a man.”

  “If by ‘man’ you mean ‘Little Bitch Baby’, then yes. I take it like a total man.”

  He gives me a smile and I can’t help but mimic him.

  “You want any of this?”

  “God, no. I ate so much today.”

  “Well, suit yourself but don’t come crying to me when I eat it all.”

  “I won’t come crying, but I might judge you a little.”

  “You know what? I think I’m okay with that.”

  We both smile as he shovels an overpacked forkful in his mouth.

  “You’re ridiculous.” I laugh.

  “Yeah, but also pretty.”

  Leaning into the counter I smile more to myself than at his statement. I had a perfect Christmas. I didn’t think it was possible, but I did. Take that, Lifetime.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Drew

  I wake up happier than I have in way too long. Haley’s staying and apart from her usual weirdness about her past, she seems legitimately happy, like the last month and half never happened. The drama with Parker and her seems to be long forgotten. Judging from their long ass shower and multiple trips to go ‘look at something’ I’d say they were back to banging like bunnies. Josh and Maria are engaged and until Josh inevitably fucks up, all is good with them. Last night Emma and I talked about nothing for hours, I’ve never in all my life talked to a woman who wasn’t family or Haley, that long. It’s usually small talk followed by a blow job. Emma and I didn’t even bang last night. We just, talked. And the weirdest part of it all was that it was all nonsense. Finding out what celebrity she’d bang behind an Arby’s, if she had to choose between two heads or six legs, shit like that and time just flew by. The sun was coming up when we finally decided to go to our separate rooms and crash. Sex-less and still I slept like a fucking baby. For the first time since Haley left, I slept nightmare-less. No car accidents. No vacant stares. No flashing lights or sounds of broken glass. Nothing. If I wasn’t worried that I just jinxed myself I might try for another hour before I have to get ready for my shift tonight.

  Instead, I decide cranberry sauce and leftover ham is waiting to be eaten and it would be a crying shame to make it wait any longer.

  Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I tuck my hardon into the waistband of my shorts and pad out to the kitchen. Emma sits on the counter, holding a steaming cup of coffee to her lips.

  “Mornin’”

  She nods in response, taking a long pull of coffee. I chuckle opening the fridge door. “Tired?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She groans. “I’m hoping this second cup will be the one to wake me up. Jesus, Drew.” She eyes the piles of tupperware stacked in my hands as I try to collect everything in one trip.

  “You’re not allowed to speak until you’ve tried it. Mama Mia is the greatest cook in the world. If I had to choose between giving up sex or giving up her food-“

  “You’d starve.” She interrupts with a smile.

  “Hardly. I’d turn celibate quick, fast, and in a hurry.” I really don’t feel like I’m lying by that statement either.

  “That’s shocking. I was convinced your dick could fall off and you’d still find a way.”

  “Probably a safe assumption if Mama Mia’s food wasn’t at stake.”

  She smiles and tips her cup back up. She looks real fucking good sitting on my counter like that. Loose white t-shirt, black short shorts, and stretched out socks pulled up to her knees; she’s a fucking babe.

  Having my dick twitch for the third time since I walked into the room, I set my fork aside and move over to her, plucking the still warm mug from her hands.

  “Hey-“ She starts to protest but I shut her up by sealing my mouth over hers. She gives in, allowing her nails to gently scratch the back of my head when she wraps them around my neck. My hands wander up her bare thighs until I’m able to grab the elastic band around her waist. “What are you doing?” She smiles against my mouth.

  “Getting breakfast.” I shrug, she lifts herself up so I can drag her shorts down her legs. “After all..” I start, spreading her legs apart and sliding her to the edge of the counter, “It’s the most important meal of the day.”

  Before anything else can be said, my face slides between her thighs just as her head falls back.

  God damn, I love having a roommate.

  Great night, great sleep, great breakfast. Today was going so well. And then Alice happened.

  For fuck’s sake I hate this broad. I mean like, holy God damn I hate her. The second I walk through the door her smart mouth is going on about how she had to prep both our stations during a rush, then of course I got the usual, ‘I’m a pig and she’s a delicate little snowflake’ routine. Walking behind me she threw a shit fit when I accidently stepped back and made her spill a tray of cocktails down her top. And of course, our fire shows. Those aren’t new irritants but I still feel the need to hate
her more each time I’m forced to do it. After about a million SOS messages to Hales, her and Parker finally showed up to save me from murder.

  “You gotta come back Hales. Like, tonight.” I tell her before her ass even makes contact with the barstool.

  “Hi, Drew. You’re welcome I came. I could be having sex right now.”

  “You and me both.”

  “What are you doing here?” Alice stares at Haley.

  “Here to replace you with any luck.”

  “Fuck off, Drew.” She offers me her middle finger with a snide grin.

  “You’re gonna miss that finger when I rip it off.”

  “And I shove it down your prissy ass little throat.” Haley adds with a vicious glare.

  “My girl!” I hold my hand out and like the best friend in the world, she doesn’t leave me hanging. Her hand collides with mine as Alice mumbles to herself.

  “So, uh, when you coming back?”

  “I don’t know about coming back.”

  “What?” I stop mid pour to glower at her.

  “She just got back, Drew.” Parker chimes in so I turn my scowl to him.

  “Lick my ass.”

  “You’ve got a girlfriend for that now.”

  “Fuck off, she’s not my girlfriend.” He gives me an incredulous glare that irks me. “Hales, a little help?”

  “Y’all are fucking on a regular basis, right?” I don’t like where this is going, still I nod, “And y’all aren’t fucking other people?” Again, I nod. “No, yeah. I’d say you have girlfriend.”

  “Who asked you anyway.” I gripe, passing someone their drink. “I need a new fucking bartender. Can’t you be nineteen yet?”

  “I wish, but at last you’ll have to survive without me.”

  I don’t like the sad tone that goes along with her statement but try not to let it bother me. She’s here, she’s happy, she’s staying.

  “Well, maybe Josh will let you do the fire shows with me as long as you don’t drink any alcohol.”

  “How would that even work?”

  “I don’t know, maybe I could blow fire off your fingers or something.”

  She makes a face and damn it all to hell when my thoughts pull up a crystal-clear image of her arm. Wrist to shoulder in red, meaty, burns, cuts, and gashes that never healed properly.