Round Thirty-Five #2
“What?” I flatten my foot to the gas and ignore the tree-lined road now that I have a destination. I don’t bother looking between the houses. I don’t need to drive slow and search for an afraid woman curled up on the side of the road. “What the hell do you mean she’s at your house? Is she okay?”
“Just come. I’ll see you in a minute.”
He hangs up. No explanation. No fucking comfort. He cuts me off and leaves me reeling, panting in the cab of my truck, and damn near hyperventilating.
Fortunately, this town is small, and even when I’m not speeding, it takes mere minutes to get from my place to his.
My windshield turns foggy from my racing breath.
My head turns woozy from the lack of fresh oxygen.
The world’s ugliest fucking rooster dashes across Tommy’s driveway, cock-a-doodle-doo-ing and running for his life as I tear my truck off the road and onto his property.
And then I’m faced with a home alight front and back.
Every light is on. Smoke puffs from the chimney.
And fuck, the lake glistens behind his house, the moon glittering off the semi-solid surface.
Oh God. Did she fall in? Did she drown?
I speed along his driveway and drift into the corner where cars tend to park at the side. Then I rip the keys from the ignition and almost tear the door clear off its hinges. Bounding out of the truck and onto icy grass, I make a beeline for the back porch.
Franky steps out of the house, solemn and sad. He hunches into his sweater and shivers, rubbing his hands together to create warmth. “Doctor Darling.” He steps in front of me, barring my way as his lips change color from pink to purple. “Hey.”
“What happened, Franky?” I swallow the ache bubbling in my throat. The nausea, begging to come up. “Say it quick.”
“It’s bad.” Gulping, he gestures toward the door. “It’s really, really bad.”
I brush past the kid and swing Tommy’s door open, crossing the threshold from dark to light. From cold to toasty warm. I’m hit with the sound of a woman’s squeal somewhere else in the house, and Tommy’s solemn expression while he rocks the baby in his arms.
“What happened?” The counter is littered with empty bottles of wine. A broken glass, lying toppled on the side. A packet of wipes—for the baby—and a pile of used wipes, soaked red. “Tommy?”
He gestures into the next room, much like Franky did. So with the boom of my heart pounding in my ears, I approach the doorway with shaking knees. Shaking hands. A shaken fucking soul.
Only to be met with giggling women and countless limbs. Alana. Fox. Eliza. Raquel.
Raquel?
And Rose.
“Then he picked it up again—off the ground—and ate it!” Eliza howls, falling back on the couch. “It was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen in my life!”
“What. The. Actual. Fuck!?” I snap out the final word and bring the drunk women to a startled stop. Eliza wipes tears from her eyes and balances a half-full glass of wine in her hand. Raquel clamps her lips shut, only to fail and choke on piggy snorts a moment later.
“Oh my gosh!” Rose cackles, staring to my left as Tommy comes to a stop beside me. “I forgot there was a baby!” She swings a bright, completely fucking drunk smile to Alana. Then she looks down at Alana’s crotch and guffaws. “You had a baby! Straight outta your vagina!”
That does it. The women burst into messy laughter, legs flying, hair flipping, wine toppling messes.
“It hurt so freakin much!” Alana giggles. “Have you ever had stitches in your vagina before? Because that shit ain’t for the weak.”
“No! I—” She shakes her head. “I don’t think I have! I don’t remember. Ollie?!” She chugs a mouthful of her white wine. “He saw my vagina. Did it look like I’ve had stitches?”
Raquel screams, palming the side of Rose’s face and shoving her to the side. “That’s my brother, you whore! Don’t ask him.”
“I got home at five and they were already like this,” Tommy rumbles.
He acts intolerant, and yet, his eyes glitter with pure fucking adoration as he looks across at them.
“Fox threatened to cut my nuts off if I stopped filling their glasses, and Alana said she has a stash of pumped milk in the freezer for Hazel, so I had to be…” He flattens his lips. “Chill like a dill pickle.”
“Isn’t he just the cutest thing ever?” Rose lies across Alana’s lap, closing one eye, her tongue pushed forward to tap her lip. “Doctor Darrrrrling. Such a darling.”
“She’s a goofy drunk,” Tommy murmurs. “And competitive, too.”
“He’s so handsome and kind and knows how to cook.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Eliza rolls her eyes. “Cool story, but I don’t wanna waste my buzz swooning for my own brother. Gross.”
“We can swoon for my husband.” Alana’s stare latches on to Tommy, her lips wrinkled and silly.
“He’s exactly how he was when he was fifteen.
Cussing. Disrespectful. Sexy. But none of you bitches get to look at him.
” She dives across and claps her hand over Fox’s eyes.
“You don’t look at my husband and think he’s sexy. That’s not cool.”
“Her man is identical to your man!” Rose cackles. “They’re copy and paste. And they’re super cute with all those tattoos.” Giggling, she whips her gaze back to me. “Did you know Ollie has tattoos all over? But they’re kinda hidden.”
Raquel gags. “Stop now.”
“Why are you even here?” Fear leaves my system on a whoosh of relief, a hum of giddiness taking over instead. I step around the back of the couch and tap the side of Eliza’s face as I pass. Then Raquel’s. “You don’t even live here.”
“I was gonna tell you on the phone I was coming to visit. But you didn’t listen.”
Finally, I stop behind Rose and scoop her glass of wine straight out of her hand.
Gasping, she twists back to front and pins me with a glare. “You give that back! You even said I could drink the other day.”
“Sure.” I bring the glass to my nose and sniff. “A glass of wine never hurt anybody. Seven bottles on your own, though?” I take a small sip and wrinkle my nose at the sickly-sweet concoction. “Probably not your best idea. And I suppose you’ve gone ahead and told them… everything, huh?”
Her smirk turns gooey and silly, giggling snickers bouncing along her throat. “Everything. I said how you slept in my bed last night.” She claps a hand over her mouth. “And how you bit my butt.”
“Awesome.” Not. I hand the wine back and hold her jaw in my palm.
And since we’re blowing straight past telling my friends gently, I go all in and slam my lips over hers.
Eliza squeals, and Raquel tosses a pillow at the side of my head.
But Rose hooks her hand around the back of my neck and slides her tongue forward to dance with mine.
She tastes of wine and sex and, fuck, she tastes of relief.
Because twenty minutes ago, I thought she was dead. Or missing. Or scared. Or all of the above.
“Next time you go for a walk, maybe you could leave a fuckin’ note at the house so I don’t have a heart attack.” I nip at her bottom lip in punishment, then I suckle on the sore spot to make it better. “I thought I lost you.”
“Naw.” She kisses the corner of my lips. My chin. My jaw. “I went for a walk and then I met this chick. She was being a total bitch, by the way.”
“Who?” I pull back a few inches and search her drunken eyes. “Who was being a bitch?”
“Me!” Raquel bounds across the couch, crushing Alana on the way, and drags me in for a hug that smooshes our cheeks together. “I was testing her out to see who she was when she didn’t have an audience. She was ready to fight me, too.”
“Oh! OH!” Rose thrusts to her feet, standing on the couch and grabbing the top of Alana’s head for balance. “Oliver Darling, you scoundrel! You and Dara bang sometimes?”
“Oopsie!” Eliza covers her face with a cushion, kicking her feet and almost toppling a bottle of wine on the coffee table. “We told her all your shit, Ol! Now you gotta grovel and make it better.”
“They’re so fuckin’ messy.” Chris wanders into the living room with Franky on his left, his hand pressed to the boy’s shoulders, and his eyes on an almost controlled Fox. If not for her flailing arms and sloshing wine.
“Did you know even casual alcohol consumption can lead to liver disease, heart disease, and some cancers?” Franky looks down on the women with scorn. “It can lead to alcohol addiction and, when you try to stop, withdrawal symptoms.”
“Yeah?” Raquel counters. “All I heard is that we shouldn’t stop.”
“Did you know that bears don’t pee while in hibernation?” Rose bunches her nose, bulldog style, and challenges the boy. “I know that has nothing to do with your alcohol did you know, but it’s the first one I could think of ‘cos I’m dizzy.”
I move behind her and press my hands to her hips.
I really don’t want her to pitch forward and impale herself with a bottle.
“Did you know New Zealand has more cats per person than anywhere else in the world?”
“So? Did you know I don’t even trust New Zealand?”
Intrigued, Alana swings her eyes up. “What?”
“How can you not trust a whole country?” Franky argues. “It’s an island.”
“Exactly! It’s just this weird little island in the middle of the ocean. And it has loads of earthquakes. Mark my words, little boy.” Rose jabs a finger in his direction for emphasis. “Someday, it’s just gonna sink! Also, do you think I’m as pretty as Dara?”
“Oh, God.” I choke out a laugh. “We’re not doing this.”
“Did you know the yo-yo was originally invented and used as a weapon in the Philippine jungle?”
“No! I did not know that! Did you know Hatshepsut was a female king? She kicked ass and was totally badass for her time.”