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“Funny, because that advice is nine years too late. Maybe if you let me make my own decisions back then, I wouldn’t be living this fucking nightmare right now.”
“Son, listen to me—”
His sentence is cut off as Rocky enters the room. “I’m here, motherfuckers!”
Rocky cowers as soon as he catches wind of my dad standing next to me.
“Oh, sorry, Mr. E.”
“Rocky, please, your language doesn’t offend me. Besides, it’s a bachelor party. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“Shit,” he mouths with a grin. “Then let’s get this motherfucking party started.”
Rocky walks over to the sound system and cranks up some music, Sir Mix-A-Lot’s ‘Baby Got Back’ begins to play loudly. As the beats plays, Rocky makes himself designated bartender for the night.
We are in trouble.
“A toast to Elijah, Mr. Kama Sutra himself. Oh, shit, sorry, Mr. E!” Rocky blurts out realizing his Kama Sutra comment may not have gone down well with my dad.
“Please, call me Andrew.” He taps on his chest as the aftermath of the shot settles. “Damn, it’s been years since I’ve had one of these. Not since the night Emily and I—”
“Oh, hell no, Dad,” I’m quick to interrupt him, scowling at the thought. “That’s some fucked-up shit. Please don’t bring up stories about Mom.”
“C’mon, Lex, Elijah said your mom’s a MILF.” Rocky chuckles.
“I did not!”
Elijah’s face turns completely red. I didn’t know whether to feel sorry for him or punch his goddamn face.
“Well, I don’t blame you. She still knows how to…” My dad trails off as my eyes widen in disgust. “Sorry, son, no more talk about Mom.
“We can talk about Charlie, then.” Rocky elbows Dad with a smirk. “Will that be more suitable?”
All eyes fall on me, aside from Elijah’s friends and cousins who are on the balcony talking to the waitresses. It’s the last thing I want to talk about. I grab the bottle of Patron in front of me and pour a double shot. It burns but eases the hurt lingering inside of me. I bang the glass on the countertop, pouring another. Rocky looks at my father who just sits there, amused.
“What exactly do you want to talk about, Rocky? The way I fucked her on her desk or the way she fucked me on mine? Tell me, I’m sure you’ll have a good old laugh.” My tone is bitter. No matter what, I can’t escape her, but I have to try because I can’t go on like this, trapped in a nightmare. I’ve done this too many times to count, and the result is never good.
“Dude, look, I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t think so.”
This party has hit a low point. I grab the bottle and pour the remaining shots. Placing my arm around Elijah’s shoulder, I make a toast. “To Elijah. Thank fuck, I can officially hand over my sister to you. Cheers!”
We raise our glasses, then swallow the drink.
The night kicks off with the guys playing poker and the topless waitresses serving us buffalo wings and other deep-fried wonders. After losing a thousand bucks to the nerdy sci-fi dude, I grab a beer this time and walk onto the balcony.
The view is impressive. The swimming pool is illuminated in bright blue as the LED lights surround it, and not so far in the distance, the rest of Vegas twinkles in the night.
As I lean against the glass railing, the dry Vegas heat does nothing to cure my wandering thoughts. The heat, compared to London’s chilly air, is extremely uncomfortable.
“So, it’s a touchy subject, then.” Dad is leaning his elbows on the railing beside me, scotch in hand as he stares into the night just like me.
“Look, Dad, there’s nothing left to say. It’s over between us.”
“Never figured you for a quitter.”
His words sting. I’m not a quitter, but I’m also not going to stand by and be second best. Where the hell is this coming from? From him, of all people?
