Titan is working, of course, and Bones left earlier today to fly to New York for whatever reason. He never tells me shit.
I throw back the glass of bourbon and stand. Swaying on my feet, my vision blurs.
“Fuck,” I slur.
“Yeah,” Cross agrees, falling off the couch and onto the floor. We both laugh. “This shit is good.”
I take a step toward the open kitchen, but trip and fall on my face. My heavy eyes close, and I let out a long breath.
I woke up to Emilee kneeling beside me, shaking my body while screaming in my face. She called Titan, and he called Bones. I had passed out. It wasn’t something new or life threatening, but she freaked the fuck out and tattled.
I lean back, crossing my arms over my chest. “Cross was just as fucked up as I was.” I rat my best friend out like the child I am.
“Hey, don’t bring me into this.” Cross throws his hands up in the air, surrendering immediately.
“Emilee didn’t find Cross passed out on the floor. She found you,” Titan growls.
I smile up at him. “Does she have feelings for me, T?” His nostrils flare. “Better keep her in check, or before you know it, she’ll be asking me to join in while you fuck her.” I wink at my brother. “Bones shouldn’t get all the fun.”
Titan lunges for me. His hands hit my chest so hard my chair falls back. We crash to the floor, and I roll to my right as Cross yanks Titan off me.
I sit on the floor staring up at an infuriated Titan. His breath comes in short, ragged gasps, and a growl rumbles from deep in his chest. When I think he’s about to hit me, he turns and storms out without another word, yanking the door open so hard it hits the interior wall with a thud before it slams itself shut.
I reach up to see if my nose is bleeding. I’m surprised when I see no blood. I think it was his elbow that connected with it.
“Give us a minute,” my brother tells Cross.
He exits, and I pick myself up off the floor. I tilt my head back, still waiting for the blood to come oozing out.
Bones moves around the desk and leans his ass against it, crossing his arms over his chest. His black button-down strains against his muscular, inked arms. “Why do you do that?” he asks.
I don’t answer.
He sighs. “Why do you take a serious situation and ruin it by opening your mouth?”
I snort. “How did you think that conversation was going to go?”
He bows his head and runs his hand through his dark hair. “You have a drug problem.”
My palms sweat. He’s never said it out loud. We both ignore it. “Well, I’m sorry, but not all of us can turn everything off.”
“Is that what you think I do?” he asks, frowning.
“It doesn’t matter what you do.” I shake my head, not caring. “You deal with you, and I’ll deal with me.” I go to exit, but his next words stop me.
“You’re all I have left, Grave.”
I swallow and close my eyes. We were always close. He and the Kings are only one year older than me, but he’s always been my big brother. When our father wouldn’t teach me to play baseball because he wanted Dillan to be the star, Dillan taught me. When it came time for me to drive, Dillan taught me in his car. He gave me my first beer. First cigarette. He was the one who showed me how to be a man.
“I want you to get help,” he adds, filling the silence.
I straighten my shoulders, not bothering to face him. “And I want you to stay out of my business.”
“Kyle.” He sighs, and I swallow the lump that forms in my throat. “Mom’s been gone for eight years.”
My entire body goes rigid. He never mentions her. “Your point?” I snap.
“Now Dad is gone.”
