Why did she leave? My shoulders sag as some of the anger of seeing her again and the adrenaline of the accident seeps out of my body. I feel like a Mack truck has plowed over me going fifty miles an hour.
The last time I saw Natalie was twelve years ago after our high school graduation. She’d worn a pink sundress and kissed me goodnight outside her father’s rundown house.
We’d made promises for the life we were going to have, which included marriage, babies, and a white picket fence. I’d made promises. She’d lied and disappeared.
My shoes are covered in splotches of blood. It looks like the janitors may have to clean up after me anyway. I lean backward, causing my head to land against the wall with a thump. Then, I close my eyes and block out everything. Too fucking bad, there isn’t a magic button I can push for a do-over.
From inside my jeans pocket, my cellphone buzzes. After three rings, I finally drag it out and swipe the screen open. My sister. Great. “Yes?”
“Where are you?” Leah’s shrill voice vibrates against my ear. “You’re supposed to be at my house.”
“I’m at the ER.”
“What?” she gasps.
“I got cut.”
“Trey, I’ve told you to stop hanging out at those biker bars. Someone is going to kick your ass. Especially if you get handsy with someone else’s old lady.”
I snort. Leah trying to talk badass biker is funny as shit. “Give me a break. I’m not going to screw someone’s old lady, and I don’t go for club girls either. I’m friends with a couple of guys in a biker club, that’s it.”
“Fine. So, what happened? Gnaw your arm off to get away from some woman who looked good in the dark last night but really looked like a horse’s ass?”
“Shit. Leah, stop busting my balls.” Despite what she thinks, I’m not a player. Well, at least, I have
n’t been in years.
The woman beside me claps her hands over the little boy’s ears, gives me a death glare, and practically shoves the chair over backward, trying to get away from me. Perfect. I’m not really a jackass either, but my sisters are assholes, and seeing Natalie has me fucked up in the head.
“I’m all out of ideas.” Her voice is muffled as she says, “Nicole. Trey’s in the ER.”
“Oh, my God,” Nicole’s voice sounds like a tiny echo.
“He’s fine. He cut his arm, and I’ve run out of ideas on how he did it.”
“A woman?”
I roll my eyes and let them continue talking shit. There’s no point in interrupting.
“He says no,” Leah scoffs.
“A man over a woman?” Nicole’s voice is a little less distant as she must be walking closer to Leah.
“Nope.”
Such assholes. I growl. Yes, I screwed around in college. Once Natalie left me, I didn’t fucking care anymore. Later, I tried to find someone I could think about growing old with. That shit worked for about a month, and then I gave up on that idea as well.
During the last four years, I’ve been nearly celibate, but trying to explain that to my sisters is pointless. They don’t listen.
“If you’d shut up, I’d tell you,” I mutter. Fuck. She’s staring again. Or maybe I keep looking at her, and she’s catching me gawking. Get your head out of your ass.
“Fine,” they say in unison as they’ve both put their heads up to Leah’s phone.
“I was at a job site, and one of the guys left a board hidden under a plank. When I stepped on it, the board knocked over a window, and my arm went through the pane of glass.”
“Shit,” Leah hisses.
“Thankfully, I was wearing gloves, so my hand isn’t messed up, but a big chunk of glass wedged itself into my forearm and took out a slice of skin.”