“Damn…” Oil burst into laughter. “Fuck brotherly loyalty.”
“Hey, if Chill gets me cut off and I lose my sexy time, I’ll string him up myself,” Inglorious retorted.
Now I laughed alongside Oil. “Sexy time? Tell me you didn’t say that!” I teased.
“Screw you. If I call it anything else, she’ll have my balls in a vice. For all Nanci has a dirty mouth and moves, she likes it to be called sexy time and not ‘let’s go fuck’,” Inglorious said.
“What did you say?” Nanci demanded from across the room, and her head swivelled like she was processed.
“Holy crap,” Oil muttered, his eyes wide. Chill, seeing his opportunity, slipped out of the corner, smiled at us, punched the air in triumph, and fled. Fucker.
“They were taking the piss out of me calling it sexy time,” Inglorious whined, and the asshole threw me and Oil under the bus. Jesus. Brotherly loyalty didn’t mean shit when Nanci was involved.
“Lasher’s phoning me,” Oil snickered and began to walk away.
“Run, you coward, I’ll get you back,” Nanci cackled.
Oil’s shoulders slumped, and he sent Inglorious a dirty look. “I’d have voted to keep her as president, you pussy-whipped motherfucker.”
Inglorious grinned. “Yup, and proud of it.”
“Makes a man sick,” I inserted, and they both scowled at me.
“You’ll be lucky to have the love of a good woman,” Inglorious snapped back, and I laughed.
“Nanci took pity on you, brother. We all know it,” I replied. Inglorious’s frown descended, and I walked away as he bellowed Nanci’s name. I knew he was about to reassure himself of her feelings, and that tickled me. Once an asshole, always one, that was me.
Amy – two days later.
It was time to go home before I throttled one of my fathers. While Papa understood how to handle my emotions, he wasn’t usually a satellite parent. That was Dad. But both of themwouldn’t stop hovering, and it was starting to grate. We’d spent the first day in tears; well, Papa hadn’t, but Dad had, as we grieved Natasha’s loss. Her mom, Mari, had identified her body and was organising the funeral. Mari, however, was so grief-stricken she couldn’t look at me and had asked me to stay away for now.
Mari had said I could attend the funeral, but explained that if she saw me now, she’d expect to see Tasha by my side. I understood. Mari wasn’t being mean or blaming me for surviving; instead, she was trying to get through it as best she could. It had only ever been her and Natasha, and Mari must feel like she’d lost her entire life. Mari sent love and best wishes, but couldn’t face me.
That gutted me because I wanted to support Mari, but couldn’t. Papa had been over several times, and Mari was polite but distant. Papa still had a daughter, but Mari didn’t. That was a deep wound which would never heal. Naturally, Mari’s grief affected my dads, and they became the worst kind of satellite parents.
“Are you sure?” Papa demanded as he pulled up outside the apartment. Dad opened the door and climbed into the back. The day after my release, he’d gone and picked up my car from North Dakota and driven it back today.
“Yeah, it’s been nearly five days. I’ve got to go home sometime.”
“Says who? We’ve got that big house, you can come home,” Dad stated. He and Papa swapped glances. They really had empty nest syndrome.
“You two need to chase Declan. The hospital has to discharge him soon, and he’ll end up alone and frightened in care,” I rebutted.
“We’re waiting for someone to call us. We’ve been cleared and have fostered in the past. Hopefully Papa’s rank will give us some pull,” Dad mused.
“I wouldn’t mind fostering, but I don’t have the clearance yet,” I said, and my dads looked surprised.
“You? Didn’t think you wanted kids yet, munchkin,” Dad replied.
“Honestly? I didn’t, but Declan calls out to me. There’s a bond between us.” And there was. The day after being discharged, I’d returned and slipped in via a side entrance. I wasn’t going to leave Declan alone. Some women from Vortex’s MC had visited to give him company, but Declan was still retreating into himself. The nurses told me he only responded when my dads came.
“If we can get Declan fostered with us, that will give you a chance to get approved,” Papa mused.
“Do you think I can?”
“Don’t see why not. I’ll help with the paperwork and stuff,” Dad offered, and I nodded.
“Amy, shall we come up?” Papa asked, and I shook my head.
