*****
When I got back home later that afternoon, I was hit with the full force of my brothers’ wrath, and in all honesty, it wasn’tthatbad.
“I repeat. Where the fuck have you been,shirker?” Reed chided from his sprawled position on one of the sofas in the den. The muscles on my face contorted into what I hoped would be an annoying level of smugness as I breezed into the room. Throwing myself into one of the empty chairs, I was prepared for their man-tantrums. I had successfully escaped clean-up duty, and my brotherswere pissed. I knew that, having read a significant number of their ticked-off messages, which were more than colorful.
Luckily, they were slightly distracted as Hudson and Reed were in the middle of playing Xbox like big kids. Shit, we were all going on nineteen, surely, we had better things to do with our time.
My eyes glanced around the room we used to crash and shoot the shit. It was clearly a boy’s space. There was none of Ma’s usual flounce; everything was beige, apart from the huge Sony flatscreen TV. It sat on the wall with several old, cracked leather sofas and a coffee table beneath it. There were also a couple of cabinets in the far corner, and that was about it. We used the TV to Zoom with Micah from his frat house on the outskirts of New York City every week. If Reed didn’t get his bro fix, he got antsy.
The window there looked out onto the yard, which was the room's only redeeming feature. It was shabby but comfortable to us. We used the den as a gaming/movie room and hung out there all the time.
Ma rarely came in there, which allowed us to get up to no good, and Harper avoided the place like it was condemned; something about not being able to stomach that guy's smell. I had no clue what that meant. One time, she’d stuck her head around the door to tell Hudson he had a parcel, and we were watching porn. The look on her face was hilarious. It appeared Harper wasn’t into Debbie Does Dallas.
“Hand me a controller,” I replied, deciding to join in like the hypocrite I was.
“You can wait your turn, jackass. Maybe do something to earn your go?” Reed could be such a whiny bitch. I swear to God, he was bipolar. Lately, his moods had been all over the place. I eyed the coffee table, which contained a plate of half-eaten donuts, his favorite, minus the pink frosting. That part he’d scraped off with his finger, leaving a donut sprinkle massacre in its wake. Out of all my brothers, Reed was a professional hog and wore his badge with pride.
Recalling his words, I pointed out. “I’ve totally earned my go. I’ve done more with my day than you two losers. So, what, you picked up a few empty bottles and tidied shit away. I benched over four plates today.” My entire frame oozed arrogance. I was a cocky motherfucker when it came to my ability in the weight room. None of my brothers or our friends could out-bench me.
Reed smirked as he leaned to one side, following the game, “What do you want? A standing ovation.”
“I’m just saying, I annihilated my PB.”
My revelation snapped Hudson’s attention from the screen. “Without a spotter?” he barked, his protective mode kicking in. Hudson was like the dad out of all my brothers, at least, he thought he was. I only allowed it when it suited me.
“Nah, Cash was there,” I explained before he got his panties in more of a twist. Our friend from high school and now college, Cash Ryan, was also a member of our gym. Lifting shit without a spotter was dangerous, especially since the kind of weights I was using were almost twice my body weight. Only a fool would lift that kind of shit without someone to support you. I appreciated that Cash had arrived on time after I messaged him that morning. He had also been wasted last night, although not as much as I was. When I told Hudson that Cash was there, he gave me a wide-eyed look, but before I could question that, I was cut off.
“And I win! I would say good game, but you suck, bro,” Reed suddenly shouted, as he shot up out of his seat. I flicked my eyes to the ceiling in a God give me strength motion at my brother, suddenly becoming Mr. Happy in a split second. As I said, bipolar. My gaze cut to Hudson’s unimpressed mug. Dude had always been a sore loser.
“Alright dickhead, calm the hell down,” Hudson huffed, lowering his controller. They were playing Rocket League. It was the only game Reed was any good at.
“Anyways, I need to bounce,” Reed exclaimed, throwing me his controller none too gently. “Keys?” he added, holding his hand out and clicking his fingers.
Dropping the controller onto my knee, I dragged the keys to his Jeep out of my pocket and threw them at him. “You’re gonna need to get some gas,” I muttered with a grin, knowing how much that would piss him off.
“Shit, Brutal, you steal my car and then bring it back empty?” Reed stomped his foot, which made me chuckle. How very kindergarten of him.
A slow smirk started to spread across my lips before I reined it in. “I didn’t steal it, I borrowed it,” I pointed out, tipping my chin up at him, my expression one of over-the-top innocence.
He gave me a hard blink, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Without my permission,” Reed chuntered as he collected his wallet from the coffee table. “You know, I could have you arrested, right?”
“For borrowing your shit-box of a car, I doubt that. Cops have better things to do with their time.”
“You’re an asshole.”
I tried to zone him out as I started to choose my Rocket League vehicle. The one I would beat Hudson’s ass with on screen.
“Next time you take my car without asking, I’ll do fucked up things to your junk whilst you’re sleeping.”
“Oh, do stop, you’re turning me on, princess,” I snarked, glancing at Hudson with a shit eating grin. He had just chosen his usual vehicle for the match. That fucker was pink. He only chose it because his girlfriend had picked it that one time she’d joined us for a gaming night. Whipped.
“Bro, are youlisteningto me?” Reed was still banging on.
That would be a big fat no.
As my brother fumbled around collecting his shit, I asked. “Where are you going anyway?”
“Out.”
