“You remember a couple months ago when you asked the club to protect your girl?”
I slowly lift my gaze. “What’s Mallory got to do with this?”
“Well, for starters, I went and poked my fingers into a nest of sleeping vipers. Last thing I need is word spreading that my son’s a fucking cokehead.”
“Please, that’s the least of what they’re into.”
“That really the answer you want to go with?”
Answering him with this amount of disrespect isn’t helping either of us. “I’m sorry. I’m trying.”
“You’re trying?” he mimics in a high-pitched whiny tone. “Bullshit. You ran out and got high the first morning and you been out doing it every damn day since.”
I’d try to defend myself, except I’m not even sure what day it is. And he’s right.
“You dragged that sweet girl home with you, to do what? Sit around by herself all day waiting on your ass? Didn’t she blow off work to help you?”
I swallow hard. This isn’t anything I haven’t been berating myself about every morning. “Yeah.”
“Then pull your head out of your ass before she decides to go back to California without you.”
“What are you talking about?” Oxygen’s finally made its way back to my brain, and my head clears. “Where is she?”
“Out with Tally.” His lips curl up, and he crosses his arms over his chest, daring me to complain.
“What do you mean, ‘out with Tally?’” I ask slowly.
“You got a hearing problem?”
“When did they even meet?”
“When I introduced them.”
“Why?”
“He’s supervising the renovations at the house.”
I jab my fingers through my hair. Tally and I grew up in the club together. His dad was the treasurer for years. Since I was busy with music, socially, we went our separate ways in high school. He’s still a brother, though. He wouldn’t dare hit on my girl. “What renovations?”
“Poor girl looked like she was gonna burst into tears at breakfast,” my father says. As if any woman’s tears have ever had an effect on him. “Took her out. Taught her how to drive stick. She’s good at it. Quick learner.”
“You what?”
He lifts his hands at ten and two o’clock and grips an imaginary steering wheel. “Car. You were supposed to look at it with me.”
“Oh.” Forgot all about that conversation.
“Yeah, oh. Anyway, when we came back, I sent her out with Tally to get some things for the house.”
“Like what?”
He shrugs. “Furniture. Carpet. Nothing special.”
“You sent her furniture shopping with Tally.” I hang my head. “Jesus.”
“I want you moved into the house by the end of the week. No more fucking bullshit.”
“You think that house is magical, old man? It’ll cure me?”
“I think you need to treat that girl with more respect, get yourself clean, and then go pay her father a visit.”
All the pieces start falling into place in my drug-addled head. “They ask to see her?”
“Something like that.”
“Surprised you’re not sending Tally with her,” I sneer.
“I will if you force me to.”
“Like fuck you will.” I stand and run my hands over my jeans a few times. “I know you think I’m weak and an asshole. But I am trying.”
“Not very hard.”
Fuck this shit. Why bother defending myself? Not like I plan to spill all the insane nightmares I’ve been having. “No more. I promise.”
“Don’t promise. Just do it.” He slaps my back, then reaches into my pocket and takes the truck keys.
“What the fuck?” I reach for them, and he blocks me.
“Obviously, you can’t handle the responsibility. From now on, you need a ride, ask your girl.”
Smart move on Dad’s part. He knows damn well I’d never take her on a drug run.
“And she’s been told not to give you her keys, so don’t think about being sneaky, either.”
“Guess you two had a nice chat.”
“Don’t get your boxers in a wad. She tried covering for you and downplaying the situation at first. She cares about you.” He coughs and mutters, “Fuck knows why.”
Can’t argue with him there.
He reaches for the door, then stops himself. “I’m not having this conversation with you again, Russell. Next time, I shoot you in the leg.”
“Super. Great parenting.”
“You’re twenty-fucking-two.” He pokes a finger into my chest. “I shouldn’t need to parent you. For fuck’s sake, you had more sense when you were twelve.”
Burning with humiliation, and let’s face it, anger at myself, I stand there staring at him. It takes a while for the correct words to roll off my tongue. “I’m sorry.”
“Do better.”
I nod once.
He opens the door and grunts at me to follow him. It’s a weeknight, so the clubhouse is pretty quiet. Not a lot of people around to insert themselves into our business. Honestly, I’d welcome the distraction. Anything to divert my father’s attention.
Outside, he leads me over to the garage and stops at a small sedan. “This is what I got her.”
“It’s nice.”
“Thought she was gonna hug me for a minute.” Old man never did deal well with affection of any sort. “Took her to visit Record Town.”
The corners of my mouth lift. Spent plenty of time there as a kid. Lots of good memories.
“Told her to get what she wanted,” he continues.
“You used to make me spend my allowance money.”
He tilts his head. “You need to have a cry about it?”
“Nope. Just sayin’.”
“Whole big store of shit to choose from. She comes back with a fuckin’ Kickstart tape.”
I stop breathing for a moment.
“Get your head on straight.” He slaps my cheek a few times. “Stop being a dick.”
Our attention’s drawn to a Ford that’s seen better days rattling down the driveway, mercifully interrupting our conversation.
Tally parks and jogs around the truck to open the passenger door. Offers his hand to Mallory to help her out of the cab.
My father’s arm slams into my chest as I take a step forward. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare start any shit,” he warns under his breath. “I asked him to do me a favor.”
“Not cool to send a brother out with another brother’s old lady.”
“Guess you better start treating her like your old lady, then.”
“Fuck off,” I growl, shaking loose.
He chuckles and follows me across the parking lot.
My eyes lock on Mallory. The sweet way she stares up at Tally and thanks him. The ways she’s laughing and smiling, something she hasn’t done much of lately. None of it sits well.
“How’d you do, sweetheart?” Dad calls to Mallory.
“Okay.” Her voice falters when she notices me, and she looks away. Shit, that hurts.
Tally hands a neat stack of paperwork to my dad. “All the receipts are there.” He lifts his chin at me. “How you been, brother?”
“All right,” I grind out.
“I didn’t go too crazy,” Mallory says to my father, still not looking at me. “I wasn’t sure how much stuff you wanted.”
“Whatever will make you two comfortable. You know where the store is if you want to go back?” he asks.
My, aren’t we generous.
“I think so.”
“Prospects are painting through the night,” Tally says. “Wanted them to get it done before the carpet’s installed. Furniture will be delivered Friday.”
My father slaps my back. “Good. You’ll be all moved in by the weekend.”
If I make it that long.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Mallory
Whatever Chaser and his father talked about seems
to have worked. Chaser hasn’t disappeared on me again. Not that he could go anywhere. Stump took his truck away and warned me again that Chaser wasn’t allowed to drive my car.
The club helped us move into the house.
Without the drugs, Chaser spends most of the day sleeping. Which is a relief. When he’s awake, he’s irritable. Instead of being stuck inside the clubhouse bedroom, we now have an entire house to ourselves, so we can avoid each other.
The car has been a blessing. And I’ve thanked Stump for it more than once.
Fed up, today I decided to locate the nearest library and spend the afternoon reading about addiction and withdrawal.
The fatigue and irritability seem to be normal. I still wonder if Stump’s do-it-yourself approach is right for Chaser. Maybe he needs a doctor or a counselor. A professional of some sort.
I jot down a few notes and use the phone book to compile a list of doctors.
Chaser’s still sleeping when I return to the house. That’s a good sign, right? His body needs the rest. I watch him for a few seconds and push his hair off his sweaty forehead. He moans in his sleep and turns over.
Downstairs, I’m about to flick the television on when someone knocks on the door. Worried the noise will wake Chaser, I hurry to answer.
“Hey, Tally.” I open the door wide. “What’s up?”
“Just checking in to see if you guys need anything.”
I glance at the staircase. “Chaser’s been…sick. He’s sleeping.”
“Oh, sorry,” he whispers. “You want to get out of the house for a bit?”
“Actually, I was out earlier. At the library.”
“The library?” He rocks back on his heels. “I’ve lived here my whole life, and I don’t think I could find it if I had to.”
“I wouldn’t advertise that.”
He chuckles.
I jot down a quick note for Chaser.
Not that he’ll wake up and wonder where I am, but just in case.
Chaser
Out with Tally. Love, M.
I read the note a few more times. It doesn’t say anything different.
How long was I asleep?
Why the fuck is she out with him again? I glance around the kitchen. My father went all out fixing up the house for us. New appliances replaced the hideous avocado green ones I grew up with. I’m not sure how long he expects us to stick around or if he wanted to fix it up because he plans to sell it after we leave. Or maybe he just needed a way to launder some dirty cash. Whatever the reason, I’m grateful the hideous gold carpet is also gone. The walls have been freshly painted some sort of cream color Mallory picked out. Most of the furniture is brand new too.
Furniture Mallory picked out with another man.
“Fuck.” I scratch my hands through my hair and yawn. So fucking tired. But at least I haven’t had any coke in days. Still crave it like a motherfucker. Sleep holds the cravings at bay. So I spend lots of time doing that. The shadow monsters still chase me in my nightmares, but they’re less vivid and don’t come for me as often.
I guess it’s progress.
Headlights wash over the kitchen, and an engine rumbles in the driveway. I move to the front door and stare out the lone diamond-shaped pane of glass. Tally’s truck.
Fucker.
I blow out a breath and retreat to the living room.
What the fuck are they doing out there?
Finally, Mallory’s key scratches in the lock, and the door swings open. She turns and waves, a big smile on her face.
The smile vanishes when she notices me in the living room. “You’re up.”
“Hello to you, too.”
She closes the door and flips the locks. Seems more like a stall tactic than a safety precaution. Can’t imagine why, I sure have been a delight to be around lately.
“Was that Tally’s truck?”
“He wanted to come in and say hi, but I told him you were sick.” She shrugs and walks into the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”
Starving. If I’m not sleeping, I’m eating lately. She may not want to talk to me or even look at me, but Mallory’s fed me like a king since we moved in here.
Tonight, I couldn’t give a fuck about food. “Where were you?”
“Out with Tally.”
“Yeah, got that. Where?”
She turns away from the refrigerator and frowns. “We went to the movies.”
Not sure I heard her correctly, I cross my arms over my chest and stare at her. “You went on a date with one of my brothers?”
She blinks, and her gaze searches the kitchen as if I’d directed my question to someone else. “What are you talking about?”
“I haven’t even taken you to a movie yet.” Shit, does Mallory even like movies? Of course she does. She wants to be an actress for fuck’s sake. Why haven’t I taken her out on a normal date?
“We’re both busy working when we’re in L.A.,” she says quietly. “It’s not a big deal.”
“I don’t like you going out with other men.”
“Going out with other men? Are you listening to yourself? He’s been friendly to me. That’s all.”
“How friendly?”
“Are you kidding?” She smacks her hand against the refrigerator. “Your father made him take me shopping.”
“Yeah, to punish me.”
“Well, you were too busy getting high to care.”
Ouch. First time she’s lobbed that one at me. I deserve it. Doesn’t mean I enjoy it.
“I don’t want you going out with him again.”
She glares at me. “Is that right?”
“You’re supposed to be here helping me. Not running around with one of my brothers.” Holy hell, I can’t even blame those idiotic words on cocaine.
Anger glitters in her eyes, but she answers with disturbing calm. “I’m here, Chaser. I’ve been here every single day since we left L.A.” She jabs her finger in my direction. “And you’re accusing me of cheating? Are you serious?”
“I didn’t accuse you of anything.”
“You know what?” She drops the box of pasta in her hands on the counter. “Feed yourself. I’m going to bed.”
I reach for her as she passes me, an apology burning a hole in my tongue. But she jerks her body away. “Sleep in your old room tonight.”
“I’m not sleeping in there.”
“Then sleep on the couch. You’re not sleeping with me.” Her lips flatten into a grim line, and she jogs up the stairs. A few seconds later, the bedroom door slams shut.
Sure enough, when I drag my ass upstairs later, the bedroom door’s locked. It’s a simple lock. I could probably pop it open with a solid thump. But I don’t want to wake her and fight again.
Too tired to slog my way downstairs, I crash in my childhood bedroom.
There’s something about sleeping in your old twin bed that humbles a man.
I toss and turn, trying to get comfortable on the lumpy, old mattress, wondering what fresh hell tomorrow will bring.
Chapter Forty
Chaser
The thick tension in the house haunts us for a few days.
Tally doesn’t stop by again. I’m not sure if Mallory told him not to or what. I don’t bring him up and neither does she.
My brain cells are starting to fire again, and I pick up my guitar to strum a few notes. I haven’t touched it since we’ve been home. Almost like I’ve been punishing myself.
“That’s pretty.” Mallory’s soft voice draws my attention to the living room entrance where she’s leaning against the wall. “Don’t stop.”
“Something I’ve had in my head.”
“I like it.”
“Come here.”
She approaches slowly. Hesitant. Probably afraid I’ll snap at her.
I hate what I’ve done to us.
When she’s close enough, I reach out and grasp her fingers. She doesn’t yank them back. A good sign, right?
My heart pounds. Not from drugs. Good old-fashi
oned stage fright. Haven’t felt that in a long time.
Mallory always says she likes my voice. I close my eyes. Take a deep breath.
“When the sun goes down
And the day is done
You’re my salvation
Hurting you is a sin.
This life was easier in my dreams.
I’ll love you ‘til they close my coffin.
Even then you’ll be my salvation.”
That’s as far as I’ve gotten. When I glance up at her, she watching me with glossy eyes.
“Kinda whiny, huh?” I joke.
“Not at all. What else do you have?”
“That’s it.” I pat the cushion next to me.
A jolt of electricity bursts through me when she drops down, and her leg brushes against mine.
“Keep playing,” she encourages.
“This life was easier in my dreams.”
I stop singing, but my fingers keep moving.
Mallory opens her mouth, then closes it.
“You got something for me?” I nudge her with my elbow.
She blushes and shakes her head.
“Come on. It looks like you do.” I stop teasing her and wait to see if she’ll jump in. Finally, she does.
“This glittering road isn’t made of gold.
One more lie that’s been exposed.”
Floored by her voice, I stop playing and stare at her.
“What?” She covers her mouth with her hand, like she wants to stuff the words back in her mouth. “That was silly. Sorry.”
I reach over and pull her fingers away from her lips. “You have a beautiful voice.”
“Stop.”
“How come you never sing in the shower for me?”
She shrugs.
I quickly jot down her two lines. Not that I could ever forget them.
She jumps up off the couch.
“Where you going?”
“I don’t want to bug you.”
“You’re not.” I wave my pen over the notebook. “You’re helping.”
I set the guitar down. “You know what, though? I’d like to get out of the house for a bit.” I stand and stretch.
For a brief second, her hungry gaze dances over me before skittering away.
Blow My Fuse (Hollywood Demons Book 2) Page 18
