I’m singing my own song now, and if my parents and East don’t like it, tough shit.
Otis and Mahlik are good people, and they keep it real.
“The brunette,” Otis says, halting the rambling thoughts in my head.
“She has no tits,” I blurt, shoving my feet into my boots and trying to ignore the way my eyes can’t focus. “And they were both shitty lays.”
Otis barks out a laugh. “You are way more talkative when you’re trashed, man.” He slams his hand down on my back. “We should definitely do this again.”
“For sure.”
Somehow, I stumble out of the house and manage to call an Uber to take me home.
* * *
I have lost all sense of time, but I don’t care. My head is buzzing, my body is tripping, and I feel alive. Grabbing a bottle of JD from the liquor cabinet in the living room, I wander out to the garden, casting a quick glance at my cell phone as I stumble across the grounds at the back of our house. I have a shit ton of missed calls and messages from my brother. A pang of longing slaps me in the face before I wrangle that shit back into a lockbox where it belongs.
Easton is not my brother or my friend or even my cousin.
He is nothing. He can be nothing to me.
He is the physical representation of everything I will never be, and I can’t stomach looking at him.
Opening the whiskey with my teeth, I swallow a large mouthful, welcoming the burn as it glides down my throat. I keep drinking as I head in the direction of the memorial garden, growing more and more angry as my thoughts churn and rage reignites in my veins.
“You’re an asshole,” I roar when I reach the garden with the tree replanted from our old house and the bench Dillon lovingly carved from wood. Two plaques are nailed to the bark. One with Reeve’s and Lainey’s names on it and the second one is in remembrance of Lori. My first mother. “You’re both assholes,” I amend, leveling a glare at Lori’s name. “You lied to me until you were forced into telling me the truth,” I snarl, tipping my head back and shouting at the stars, hoping wherever she is Lori is hearing this. “You let this happen. You were too soft on Saffron. You let her get away with too much, and then you passed me off to Vivien like a sack of old clothes when you could no longer care for me. You left me too!”
My head whips around, and I narrow my eyes as I glare at Reeve’s name. I advance toward the tree, trampling the flowers underfoot. “But you.” I jab my finger into the wood, wishing I’d had the forethought to bring a screwdriver with me so I could chisel through his name and erase it in the way I wish I could erase it from my brain. I try to pry the plaque from the bark, but it’s nailed in tight, and it doesn’t budge, no matter how hard I tug at it. “You were a pathetic, weak prick who cheated on the woman he professed to love and abandoned his baby son. Why?!” I roar before knocking back more whiskey. “How could you give me away? I was just an innocent baby.”
A sob rips from my throat, but I shut that shit down. None of them deserves my tears. Only derision. I bark out a laugh as I glance down at the colorful flower beds, remembering how East and I helped Vivien to plant this memorial garden after we moved into our new house. Fleur was young, but she helped too. What a joke. To think I used to find solace coming out here and talking to my dad and Lori. Now I know neither of them deserved it.
Fueled with a fresh layer of rage, I let out a roar as I flip the bench and drop to my knees. I dig up the flowers with my nails, ripping out roses and shrubs and other colorful flowers, mashing them between my hands until they are completely destroyed, growing more enraged with every passing second as I remember how I used to draw comfort from coming out here and talking to them. I hate how fucking gullible I was.
But no more. My eyes are fully open now.
“Stop!”
My head jerks up at the sound of my brother’s voice. Easton is jogging across the grass in sleep shorts with his feet shoved into untied sneakers. His fist is closed around something in his hand, and the expression on his face is a mix of pity and anger. I sit back on my butt and lift my knees, bringing the bottle of JD to my lips as I survey the carnage around me with a satisfied grin.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” East yells, and I feel a sense of pride I got him to raise his voice. He’s always so fucking happy and amicable and far too laid-back. It’s good to see him rattled.
“What the fuck is wrong withme?” I snap, champing at the bit for this fight that’s been brewing for days. I clamber awkwardly to my feet, still struggling to focus, and it’s an effort to remain upright.
“Look at the state of you, bro. You’re totally wasted.” He dangles my bag of goodies from his fingers. “How could you do this? This will kill Mom. You know what she went through with Reeve, and Saffron was a known junkie.” He takes a step toward me, pain comingling with concern on his face. “This isn’t the way to deal with things. This is a one-way trip to hell, and I’m not going to stand by and watch you throw your life away.”
I laugh. He still doesn’t get it. “You don’t get a say.”
“The hell I don’t. I’m your brother. You might have forgotten what that means, but I haven’t.”
“I hate you,” I roar, throwing the bottle of JD at his head. He ducks down, and it soars over him, landing somewhere in the grass behind him.
“You don’t.”
“I do.” I march toward him, putting my face all up in his. “I hate you. If you didn’t exist, if Vivien didn’t exist, he wouldn’t have abandoned me.”
East sucks in a sharp gasp. “You don’t mean that. Take it back.”
“No.” I shove his shoulders, understanding I am in no fit state to fight my brother but uncaring. I need to hit something, and his smug face will do. I swing my arm around, but he easily blocks me, wrapping his hand around my fist and staring at me in shock.