by Lane Hart
“What happened to his leg?” Asher asks, kneeling down next to him.
“He had a little accident,” Phillip explains.
I start to warn them not to touch the cast, but I’m too late. Asher grabs it, making Ace whine and then growl before he turns around and snaps at the boy.
“Ace!” Phillip exclaims. He scoops Sierra up in his arms while Asher starts to cry. Since I’m closest to Asher, I pick him up. His eyes are closed tight, tears racing down his cheeks as he starts to wail.
“It’s okay, Asher,” I tell him. “You just startled him, and he made a noise to warn you, that’s all.”
He shakes his head back and forth then holds up his tiny hand. “He bit me!”
My heart drops as I hurry him down the hallway to the bathroom where I keep the first aid kit. When I sit him down on the closed toilet to take his hand and examine it, I expect to see blood, but thankfully it’s just a couple of teeth indentions. Ace did bite him, but it didn’t break the skin.
“Shh, it’s okay,” I tell the still squalling child. “We’ll get you some ice, and your hand will be as good as new. You don’t even need a band-aid.”
That has him pausing in his howling. He blinks his big, brown eyes at me, lashes darkened by tears and says, “I don’t?”
“Nope.”
For some reason, that makes his lip quiver, and then the crying starts up again even louder.
“How bad is it?” Phillip asks from the doorway, still holding Sierra in a near death-grip. The little girl doesn’t seem to mind. Her arms are around his neck, holding on as tight she can with her head resting on his shoulder.
“Just a few indentions, but the teeth didn’t break the skin,” I tell him.
“Thank fu-God,” he mutters, catching the swear word just in time.
“Does it hurt, buddy?” Phillip asks Asher, who nods vehemently.
“I told him he didn’t even need a band-aid and that made him start crying again,” I explain.
“He likes band-aids,” Sierra tells us calmly. “Especially ones with the Avengers on them.”
“Is that what you want?” I kneel in front of Asher and ask him. Grabbing some toilet paper, I start to dry his face. “Do you want us to get you an Avengers band-aid?”
He nods his head, and his crying finally begins to calm down. “Avengers make it all better,” Asher says.
“I can run to the store,” Phillip says.
“Okay.” I look up at him and give him a small smile, but he looks as pissed as I’ve ever seen him for some reason. “Are you okay, Phillip?” I ask, and he nods without giving a verbal response. “Well, how about you let Miss Sierra stay in here with us while you get Ace back into his comfy bed in the bedroom?”
Phillip places a kiss on her forehead and then lowers her to her feet in the bathroom. Sierra comes over and takes her half-brother’s injured hand, lifting it to her lips to kiss it.
“Does it feel better now?” she asks Asher, and he nods.
It’s one of the sweetest interactions between siblings that I’ve ever seen. That’s when I realize that Phillip isn’t the only one suffering seeing his son and daughter for just one hour a week. Asher and Sierra obviously enjoy being together. I didn’t notice on the playground, but it’s been clear this afternoon that they play really well together, no arguing or fussing, just sharing and enjoying their time together like good friends.
I glance over to see if Phillip was as moved by them as I was but barely catch a glimpse of his back as he leaves. The bedroom door closes a moment later, and then I hear him go out the front door.
“How about a snack and a juice box while we wait for Daddy to get back?” I ask the kids, who both smile.
By the time Phillip returns with the requested band-aids, Sierra and Asher are back to playing with their Lego blocks like nothing happened.
Phillip sits down and asks to see Asher’s hand, turning it this way and that to assess the damage. Then, finally, he places the bandage over it.
“He’s been fine,” I tell him softly when I sit down next to him and rub his arm.
“He’s not fine,” Phillip whispers to me. “His mama is going to have my balls for this.”
“What do you mean? The teeth indentions are already fading. There’s barely a mark on him.”
“She’ll still blame me,” he says.
“He grabbed an injured dog’s leg, and the dog reacted. It’s not your fault, Phillip. Just an unfortunate accident.”
“It could’ve been a lot worse,” he says, his jaw clenched tight as he watches the kids play. “You told me not to let them around the dog, and I didn’t listen.”
“Now we know. I’m sure Ace will be fine to play with them once his leg is all healed.”
Phillip shakes his head but doesn’t comment.
In fact, he doesn’t say much to me the rest of the night, mostly playing with Asher and Sierra.
When there’s a knock on the door, Phillip jumps as if he’s been struck.
“It’s going to be okay,” I tell him as we both get up from the floor to answer the door. “We’ll just explain to them what happened. I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“No, they won’t,” he grumbles as he stands there and waits for me to open the door.
“Hey! How did it go?” Giselle asks. “Did Sierra behave?”
“Sierra was great,” I tell her. “She’s so sweet to her brother.”
“Yeah, they’ve always got along great since they’re only a few months apart.” She smiles at me and then looks to Phillip, who still looks angry. “What’s wrong, Fiasco?” she asks, her brow furrowed, calling him by the awful nickname again.
“I may as well tell you because I know Katrina will if I don’t,” he says. Taking a deep breath, he launches into the story. “Ace bit Asher. It didn’t break the skin, but he hurt him, and he cried bloody murder for a while.”
“He’s fine,” I reiterate. “Just left a few teeth marks, but he didn’t bleed or bruise.”
“Who is Ace?” Giselle asks me.
“Our…my dog. I haven’t had him long. He’s a stray that I took in after an accident that hurt his leg. That’s the only reason why he snapped at Asher.”
Her face turns a bright, bright shade of red. “You have a wild dog and didn’t think to tell me that when I dropped off my daughter? What if he had taken a bite out of Asher’s face or Sierra’s?” She pushes past me, going over to scoop Sierra up in her arms, propping her on her hip.
“We didn’t intend to let Ace near the kids. I took him outside; and when we came back, the kids saw him and wanted to pet him.”
“Well, you should’ve watched him better!” she yells at us before she turns her attention to Sierra, making sure she doesn’t have any injuries.
Shit. If Giselle is this upset when the bite didn’t even happen to her kid, then Katrina is going to go nuts. She may very well physically hurt us.
Unfortunately, we aren’t able to calm Giselle down and convince her to leave before Katrina comes waltzing into the open door without knocking.
“What’s going on?” she asks, picking up on the tension in the room.
“They have a psycho dog that bit Asher!” Giselle tells the other woman before we can tell her calmly.
“What?” she exclaims and then hurries over to kneel in front of Asher, pulling him to his feet.
“I got a boo boo, but Daddy got the Avengers band-aids, so I’m all better now.”
Katrina yanks the bandage off so fast that Asher starts crying again. “There are teeth marks in my son’s hand!”
“Ace has a broken leg in a cast, and Asher touched it…” I start to explain, and then Katrina is on her feet and getting in my face.
“Are you saying this is all Asher’s fault?” she yells at me.
“No, of course not.”
“That’s right. It’s your fault and his,” she says, pointing her finger at Phillip. “If you had told me about the rabid dog, I wouldn’t have let my so
n stay here with you!”
“I’m sorry Asher got bit, but Ace really is a good dog,” I assure her.
“Come on, Asher,” Katrina calls to her son through gritted teeth. Asher comes over and takes her hand. “Tell Daddy goodbye, because this is the last time you’ll ever see him!”
“What?” I gasp and look to Phillip, who drops to his knees and hugs Asher like he may never get to do it again. “You can’t mean that,” I say to Katrina. “It was an accident, and Asher is fine.”
“This time maybe. There won’t be a second time!” she shouts at me, her face enraged.
Sierra runs over to join her father and brother. Phillip opens his arm to bring her in for a group hug, holding her tight.
“Giselle…” I start since she’s the much more sensible mother.
“No,” she grits out. “Let’s go, Sierra.”
“Come on, Asher.”
The little boy and girl run to their mothers when called like good children, and out the door they go, leaving Phillip on his knees, tears glistening on his face.
“God, Phillip, I am so sorry this happened,” I tell him. “They’ll probably cool off in a few days…”
“No, they won’t,” he says when he pulls the collar of his t-shirt, hiding his face as he dries it. “They won’t ever let me see them again.”
“That’s not true. They can’t stay upset about this forever. You’re paying child support, so they have to let you see them.”
“I knew this was a bad fucking idea!” he exclaims, raising his voice like I’ve never heard him do before as he stands up. “You asked too much of me, Joanna, and now I have nothing!”
“I’m sorry. We’ll figure this out, I promise.”
“You can’t promise that, not after you ruined everything,” he says without looking at me. He then walks out the door without another word.
I want to chase him down and beg him to forgive me, but I know it won’t do any good. He’s angry and hurt, and he’s right — it’s all my fault.
It was my idea to have the kids come to my place for the playdate. I was responsible for keeping them safe. Now, Phillip doesn’t think he’ll be able to see them again. He’s heartbroken, like any good father would be. And now that I may have lost him, my heart is breaking right along with his.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Fiasco
I walk into the pool hall and go right behind the bar to pour a shot of Captain Morgan and throw it back with the bottle still in my hand. That little bit of rum doesn’t even begin to help ease the ache inside of my chest, so I just go right to the source, pouring the amber liquid straight down my throat. I guzzle it as I make my way around the bar to climb up on one of the stools.
I’m halfway through the bottle when Nash and Malcolm come up on either side of me.
“Go easy,” Malcolm says.
“You okay, man?” Nash asks, and I shake my head.
The bottle eventually runs dry, which pisses me off even more. Before I even think about it, the glass is flying over the bar and shattering against the wall.
“Jesus,” someone says.
I cross my arms on the bar counter to bury my face in them.
“Get the women out of here!” Malcolm says.
“Fiasco, man. What happened?” Devlin asks, clasping his hand on my shoulder. The attempt at comforting me pisses me off, because I don’t want to cry like a pussy again. Anger is better. I roll my shoulders to shrug him off and get to my feet, stumbling a little as I come off the stool because the alcohol finally is starting to take effect. Good, I want to drink until I pass out and can’t think. To do that, I probably need another bottle.
The first face I see when the room stops spinning is Nash’s, reminding me of his beautiful sister. “This is your fucking fault!” I say while poking him in the chest with my finger hard enough that he moves backward.
“My fault?” he asks, brown eyes like hers widening in surprise. “What the hell did I do?”
“I wish I had died rather than met your sister!”
His face falls and he says, “Fiasco, man, you don’t really mean that.”
“The hell I don’t!” I yell in his face. “And my name is Phillip! Now get the fuck out of my way before I knock your ass out!”
“You’re not going to knock anyone out,” Malcolm grumbles from behind me.
Hands grab me from the side and behind to jerk me down so that I’m sitting on a stool again. “Sit down and tell us what happened,” Silas says.
“What happened? What happened is that I was a stupid fucking fool for thinking Joanna knew a goddamn thing about me. She was wrong. Now, I probably won’t ever see my kids again!”
“Something happened with your kids?” Devlin asks. Of all the guys, he knows me best since we work together and talk every day.
“Yes,” I answer with a loud belch following not so far behind. “I hit a dog on my bike and nearly killed it. Then Joanna paid a shit ton of money to save the dog. Wouldn’t you fucking know, the dog I nearly killed just bit Asher! Screw it. Keep calling me Fiasco. I don’t deserve any other name. I fuck up everything I touch.”
“Damn, man,” someone says.
“Did you get into an argument with Joanna?” Devlin asks.
“We’re done. I lost my kids and my girlfriend in one night.”
“Girlfriend?” Nash asks. “You’re serious about Joanna?”
“It’s done and over now, so no need to get pissed at me!”
“I knew you were seeing her, but I didn’t tell you to stop, did I?” Nash asks.
“Not to my face, no. I wouldn’t have even if you had told me to.”
“I don’t care if you date Joanna. She may be my biological sister, but I don’t get to have a say in her life. I didn’t want her to get caught up in any of the MC’s shit, but otherwise I’m not going to try and tell her or you who you can or can’t see.”
“Didn’t you hear me?” I ask his now two identical heads that look like Joanna. “It’s done. I can fuck whoever I want and make more kids.”
“You don’t mean that,” Malcolm says. “And even if you do mean it right now, you’ll hate yourself if you screw anyone else.”
“I already hate myself,” I mutter. “I need more rum.” I try to get to my feet, but hands push me down so hard I nearly fall off the stool.
“No more alcohol. We’re not going to stand around and watch you drink yourself to death,” Devlin says.
“Let’s get him up to the apartment upstairs. There’s still a bed. He can crash there tonight and sleep this shit off,” Malcolm says.
Sleep sounds like a great idea, as long as it’s a dreamless one. I don’t want happy dreams like ones where I’m with Joanna and she becomes a stepmother to Asher and Sierra. Nope. It’ll only make me sad, and I don’t think I can handle any more sadness.
Joanna
“I’m so sorry, buddy,” I say to Ace as I lie on the floor of my bedroom with him, tears streaming down my face. “It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. Phillip was right. I shouldn’t have pushed him.”
Ace lays his snout on my arm as if trying to comfort me.
“You’re a good, sweet dog,” I tell him, not planning to move for the rest of the night. I’ll just sleep on the floor, like a mutt. I don’t deserve to be comfortable, not after all the pain I’ve caused Phillip.
A sudden loud knock sounds at the door, and I scramble to my feet, hoping it’s Phillip.
I rush to the living room. And when I open the main door, there’s a man on the other side of the glass in a Dirty Aces cut and jeans, but it’s not the one I wanted to see.
“Go away, Nash. I don’t want to talk to you right now,” I say when I start to close the door on him. But lightning fast, he opens the glass door and pushes his way in past me.
“Too bad. We need to talk.”
“Get out or I’ll…I’ll call the police.”
He stares at me coolly as if he knows I’m full of shit without commenting on that bl
atant lie.
“What do you want? It’s late.” I cross my arms over my chest to show my annoyance at his visit.
“First, I wanted to come over and apologize for not telling you the truth about us when we first met. I know it sounds stupid to say I was worried that you would throw us out, but put yourself in my shoes for a second and think about it. Would you have taken the chance of being honest while your friend was dying from two bullet wounds?”
I know he means Phillip, and now that I know him, even if it hasn’t been for long, I would do anything to keep him alive.
“Fine. You’re forgiven. Now, please leave.”
“I know I’m not exactly the ideal brother, and I never will be. I’ve killed people, and I would do it again. I can’t pretend I’m a good guy, but I am glad that I finally got to meet you. It’s nice to know that there may be some good in me, in our mother and father, because you turned out pretty well.”
“Phillip told me why you killed people. It was for a good reason,” I admit.
“Good reason or not, I took lives, took people from their friends and family. They may not have been decent, but the families were.”
“The fact that you can understand that means you’re not as bad a person as you think you are. Unlike you, I didn’t grow up in the foster system. I was lucky to have good, adoptive parents, but they’re dead now, so I’m an orphan yet again.”
“I’m sorry,” Nash says. “Guess I’m all you’ve got as far as family goes.”
“Guess so.”
“Then, as your brother, tell me what happened with Fiasco…with Phillip tonight and what we can do to fix it.”
“How do you know something happened?” I ask.
“Because Fi-Phillip came to the pool hall. I’ve never seen him so upset.”
“Well, he may have just lost what little visitation he has with his son and daughter because of me. He has a right to be upset.”
