“Er…” Panicked, he looks around. “Mom?”
“Am I good, Franklin?” She pops her lips forward into an exaggerated pout. “You’d tell me if I was evil, wouldn’t you?”
“You need to give her more wine.” Eliza stumbles to her feet, piggy snorting and giggly as she sweeps up a full bottle of white wine, then leaning across the table with one hand propped on the wood for balance, she fills Rose’s glass to the very lip and clicks her tongue. “Drink up, lady. Drunk is fun. Sobering is depressing. And yes, I’m absolutely aware of how toxic and gross this sounds.” She straightens out and drinks straight from the bottle. “I’m gonna puke all this up tomorrow, right on Tommy’s gym floor.”
“You’re gonna mop it up, too,” Tommy rumbles. “Sweat the alcohol out, then get back on track before your fight.”
“I can’t even believe you fight!” Re-energized, Rose spins away and jumps to her feet, lifting her hands like she’s ready to throw them. “You fight! Like, you looked atallllllthe other jobs in the world and thought, ya know what? I wanna get punched in the face for money.”
“Oh, but you’re mistaken.” Eliza sways, slow-blinking so fucking slowly, I suspect she takes a micro-nap before she brings her eyes open again. “I don’t ever get punched in the face, Rosaline. Not ever.”
“Not ever?” Bubbles slide along her throat. “Ever ever?”
“Never ever ever ever. ‘Cept when I’m sparring with these jerkwads,cos they’re bigger than me and their reach is way longer than any of the chicks I have to fight. I could teach you, though.”
“Youdidteach me!” Rose giggles. “The bump thing.”
“Oh yeah.” Grinning, she sways and sniggers, bringing her eyes across to me. “I already taught her. Are you gonna tell Dad I was drinking, Ol? I’m old enough now, even the law says so. Cato isn’t old enough.”
“Oh my gosh! Cato!” Raquel bounds onto the couch, pitching to the side and catching herself by grabbing Fox’s ponytail. “Cato is such a goofball.”
I push to my feet and stop behind Rose. Because she’s gonna crash soon, and I’d rather she didn’t smack her pretty head on the table on the way down. “Who the hell is Cato?”
“He’s somebody who isn’t old enough to drink,” Eliza giggles. “But I don’t think he cares much about the law.”
“I think I’m gonna puke.” Rose clamps her lips shut and looks over her shoulder. “Uh-oh.”
“Nouh-oh!” Tommy stop-signs her, then he spins and sprints into the kitchen, dashing back again with an empty salad bowl. “In here, woman! Don’t you dareuh-ohon my living room floor!”
Her knees give out beneath her, her brain much too slow to even realize she’s going down. But I’ve caught drunks in the ER more times than I can count, and none of them have ever been so fucking pretty. I scoop her into my arms and wait for Tommy to place the bowl on her stomach,just in case. Then I sigh and look down at her sleepy face, a honking, pig-like snore tearing along her throat.
“You didn’t have to go this hard, Rose.” Groaning, I shake my head and turn back to face the rest of them. “She’s got a head injury, you idiots. Why would you pour alcohol down her throat?”
“Don’t blame us!” Raquel stumbles off the couch and bangs her knee on the same corner I hit mine. Hissing, she limps around and drapes her arm over my shoulder, resting her cheek against my upper chest. Releasing a noisy exhale, she pushes raven hair off Rose’s face. “It started out as just a friendly drink. Help her relax. Get her to eat. Then the bottles just kept getting empty. We thought they were defective and the wine kept fallin’ out of the bottom. But maybe not. Maybe we drank all the wine we thought we didn’t.”
“Ya think? Why are you here, Raquel?”
“‘Cos I miss my family and my boss said I could take a few days.” Pulling back, she looks up at me with a dopey, lazy grin and half-closed eyes. “She’s such a bitch.”
“Your boss?”
“Mmm. Single most brilliant, amazing, hardworking, amazing,unintentionally funny boss I ever had. And she would burn the world down for anyone she cares about. Even when she’s busting my ballsall the freakin’ time, I know she cares about me, too. But mannnnn, she’s a stone-cold bitch.” She giggles. Then, with a bright idea in her mind, her eyes whip wide, and her hand goes around to grab her phone. “I should call her!”
“Yeah, that’ll end well. When are you leaving again?”
“Dunno. Later.” She unlocks her phone and dials, shuffling back to the couch and flopping onto the cushions beside Eliza. Bringing the phone to her ear, she waits for the line to connect. “Minka freeeeeakin’ Mayet. How you doing, pretttty lady? Did you know how much I love you? ‘Cos I do. It’s true.”
“I’m taking Rose home.” I study the couch of misfits—Alana’s curled up and almost asleep, and Fox happily makes eyes for Chris. So I turn to Tommy and shake my head. “Thanks for keeping her here and safe.”
“I didn’t do much.”
“Except when they wanted to go swimming,” Franky inserts eagerly. “Tommy barred the door and used the dad voice and told them to sit the heck down again, ‘cos the water is frozen, but only on the very top. It’s too cold to swim, and the ice isn’t safe for them to run on.”
“Fox suggested they tie knives to their shoes and skate,” Tommy grumbles. “I suggested Chris hide the knives before our night was ruined.” He tips his chin toward Rose. “You okay with her?”
“Mm. She’s out. I’m gonna take her home and put her to bed.” Exhaling a heavy breath, I glance back at my sisters.
“I don’t love you like I wanna bang you!” Raquel cackles. “Geez. You think so highly of yourself, Chief.”
