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“He’s helping Screwy sharpen his knives…”
I get hit back with a silence that says I better be joking. “Relax, Abby’s watching him, ain't like she’s got much else to do around here. The place is dead.”
“I’ve spoken to Ella, they want her to stay in for a few days because the baby was early, but Nyx will be home tonight. We’re heading back straight after the wedding. You sure everything's okay? Prez is already on his way, but I could drive back too and help take care of Dylan?”
“Believe it or not, geek girl, this club can function without you.”
“You and Screwy taking care of a toddler sounds like a disaster.”
“We got Abby here helping out,” I remind her, taking another mouthful of scotch.
“Well, you call me if things get too much, or if he’s unhappy.”
“Okay, Mom,” I say sarcastically, cutting her off and pocketing my phone.
“Bitches give me a headache.” I scrub my face and pour me and my brother another.
It’s late when Nyx rocks up at the club and relieves Abby of Dylan, who is asleep on her lap. He refuses a drink to wet the baby's head because he’s pussy whipped, but he does thank us all before heading up to his lodge to put his kid to bed.
I could do with an early night myself; today's been eventful to say the least. I know that as soon as I hit my pillow, I’ll start thinking about Alex, and then I’ll have to call her. I really don’t want to do that. Things are better off this way, with me and Screw getting wasted and Abby texting the online guy, who's clearly too ugly to talk to a girl face to face.
“You still messaging that same guy? Ain’t it about time you actually met him?” I snatch the phone out of her hands and read her messages. “Ugly, and no personality either. He’s a real keeper.” I hand the phone back to her after flicking through a few of their recent messages. He’s asking her the most mundane shit, like what hours she’s working tonight and if she likes sweet potato fries.
No wonder the guy has to resort to this shit to get pussy.
“Leave it out, Squealer. Not all men are driven by their dicks,” Abby snaps.
“The ones who know how to use ‘em are.” I cup the bulge in my jeans and wink at her, and she flicks me with the towel she’s got over her shoulder.
“Are you guys gonna fuck off home so I can lock up and go to bed?” she asks with a hand on her hip.
“Sure, come on, Screw. Let's get home.” I tap my brother on the back, and we head out. Our bikes are still parked outside the garage, and we ride them up to the cabin we share. I can’t help feeling proud of myself when the porch light comes on as we step toward the front door.
“Sorry you got lumbered with the kid today, but if you ask me, you got lucky. I’m gonna be bruised for days.” I shake off the hand that Ella crushed. Good job it wasn't the hand I jack off with, being exclusive to Alex is hard enough for a guy with a drive like mine.
I get woken to the sound of the door banging, and I wake myself up and tame down my cock before I stumble to the door to answer it.
“Sorry it's early, but we’re heading into the hospital to be with Ella and the little one,” Nyx is standing in front of me with his kid on his hip.
“And you’ve woke me up to tell me this why?” I scratch the back of my head and squint my eyes to block out the sunlight.
“I need the keys to the truck. Ella’s car’s got an engine problem, remember?”
“Just take it.” I grab the keys off the side and hold them out to him, Dylan snatches them up first. “I had some appointments at the studio today, you think you or Abby could call and cancel them for me?”
“I’ll deal with it,” I assure him, noticing that Screw's bike ain't beside mine; where the fuck has he gone this early?
And when a sick feeling rushes to my stomach, I feel my chest go tight.
“You alright, man?” Nyx asks, noticing the sudden change in me.
“I’m fine. Go see your wife and kid.” I rush him off and quickly slam the door, leaning against it as I look up at the ceiling and swallow the lump in my throat.
Have I really been too preoccupied with shit to remember what today is? I’ve never been good with dates, but usually, I feel it creeping up, I can sense it in Screwy’s behavior. But not this year.
Today is our sister’s birthday, the sister that made sure she never made it past her fifteenth. It’s the day my brother stopped speaking to anyone but me. I know he blames himself, that he thinks there was something he could have done. I know because I beat myself up inside too. Beth had always been a quiet girl. She isolated herself from everyone, even us.
Today is the only day of the year me and Screwy ever spend apart. I never know where to find him. I never ask him what he does with the time he spends alone; a part of me doesn’t want to know.
