Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“Dad night out?” Wesson teases me.
“Fuckin’ coparenting shit sucks.” I take a pull from my beer, “It’s her weekend. Can’t sit in the silence.” Honesty, I can’t be this open with everyone about what an empty house does to my headspace, but Busted gets it. I can only imagine what an empty house and quiet does to him after Emmalee up and left like she did.
“Find a barfly and enjoy the time you have away.” Wesson tells me, and I simply sigh.
There isn’t a barfly that can satisfy the need inside of me. I’ve tried more than one of them. Pussy is pussy for a release, but it’s all meaningless. Sometimes a man can’t deny the pull to have someone that matters under him. The woman I want is off limits even as my mind and body crave her affection.
“Brother, you need to find a barfly and fuck Emmalee away,” I counter taking a pull from my beer. “Shit hasn’t been right with you since the broad left.” I have to stop thinking about Maritza or my night will be ruined.
He doesn’t reply. What is there to say? He’s as twisted up inside for Emmalee as I am for Maritza. The difference is he’s had a taste. I’ve had years of torment watching and knowing it can never be. Maritza and I have a pure connection. More than that, she fits into my life, my world perfectly. It can never be though. I struggle to fight the attraction, but my life is complicated, and she deserves a man without baggage.
Busted and I stay in place together in silence watching everyone around us have a good time.
Wallflowers, that is what we are tonight apparently. It’s my usual, as I’m not the most social of men. Conversation isn’t really my thing. Say what needs to be said and move on.
Maritza is out there moving her hips and swaying to each song. I’m hypnotized by her. Like a damn drug, I need a hit and can’t pull away from the allure that is all her.
“Some shit burns deep even if you have never really had it, huh?” I mutter more to myself than to Busted, but he takes notice, and I need to redirect. No one can know how I feel about Maritza. I won’t put my brother’s torn between me and her father if I was to ever even attempt something there. Off limits, I mentally remind myself what I know to my very core. “Shake her off, Busted. Women are a special hell, brother.”
He simply nods and takes a long pull of his beer. I follow suit. It’s a hard thing to literally be surrounded by people but feel completely alone. I sense Busted understands this. There are some things even the fulfillment of a cut can’t fix. The brotherhood matters above everything, but knowing outside of this family I’m alone, it hits home every moment of every day.
Everyone here is having a good time, yet I’m yearning for something more. I’ll leave here tonight, lay in a bed with nothing but a pillow for my head. There was a time where I desired nothing more than an empty bed. When shit got bad with Anna, our bed was the last place I could find rest. Having peace from that, the chapter being closed, I don’t treasure the empty bed like before.
Busted keeps drinking and for once I decide to give in alongside him. Drink for drink, beer for beer, whatever my brother does, I’m right alongside for the ride. At some point Maritza leaves and I keep tossing back the drinks with my brother.
In the dark of my position none of them notice me. It’s me, my beer, and my thoughts.
Time passes as we put them back, one beer after another, adding in a whiskey sour here and there. Busted and I both are feeling nice. Before long, we are both wasted.
I feel myself struggling to remain upright as hands grip my sides. “Alright, big guy, time for bed.” It’s Danza always taking my back, my only thought as the room spins before I pass the fuck out.
“Are you fuckin’ with me right now, Link?” I yell into my phone trying to wake the fuck up.
My head pounds while I struggle to focus on what my cousin is telling me. My mouth feels like I swallowed a pack of cotton balls, and I crave water. I look around taking in the space. How did I get here? It’s fuzzy. We are in one of the duplex crash pads. Roundman had these built ages ago on the compound so when other charters came to visit Haywood’s Landing or one of the brothers didn’t need to drive home, we had a place to sleep, shower, shit, and exist. They are used for that to this day, but also for any brother needing a roof. More than once, I stayed in one early on in the divorce. It was a safe place to have Hollis while I was working out details with Anna. I couldn’t afford to get my own spot while paying all the legal fees and keep up the mortgage on the home Anna has. I was grateful for the place then, and still now since I clearly had no business trying to make it home on my own.