My alarm clock goes off and I groan in protest. It feels like I laid down five minutes ago. Reaching over to my nightstand, I hit the snooze button, rolling back over while cocooning myself in the blankets.
I stayed up late last night with a million things running through my head. Why am I so concerned with Henry’s obsession with Holden’s partner for their English assignment? It shouldn’t bother me, but something doesn’t seem right with his persistence. Holden swears it’s the influence this new pack he’s trying to be a part of has over him. I wasn’t sure until now with the repeated questions about wanting to switch assignment partners. Something doesn’t feel right.
Just as I’m about to drift back under the veil of darkness, there’s a hard pounding on my door.
“Get up,” Roman’s deep voice shouts through the wooden barrier.
I debate what the consequences will be if I just go back to sleep. I decide whatever it is, that it’s worth it for some more shuteye.
I’ve barely closed my eyes when the pounding starts again, a dull thud of a fist slamming against the wood.
Exhaustion still clings to me like cobwebs. “Fuck off!” I shout, my voice ragged, more desperate than fierce. All I want is to sleep.
I roll onto my stomach; the mattress sighs beneath my weight. One hand slides under my pillow, searching for warmth, something to anchor me back to the world of sleep. A place I so desperately want to reside in at the moment. Somewhere I can tune out the pounding that hasn’t stopped even with my warning.
But then there's silence.
Did Roman finally give up, because he’s the only one out of my two brothers who’d do something so fucking annoying and insistent.
Then the handle clicks, slow and deliberate, and the door swings open, slamming against the wall. I pull the blanket further over my head, growling that someone, namely Roman, is invading my space.
Before I can push myself up, all the blankets are ripped from my body in one sharp motion, the sudden rush of cold air biting my skin. Fingers clamp around my ankles—strong and unrelenting.
“What the fuck?” I shout when in one swift pull, I’m dragged across the bed until I hit the floor with a hard thud.
“I said to get up. We have a job to get to, and your ass knew about it. I don’t know what’s gotten into you and your brother’s head but you both are acting as if you’re dead to the world this morning.” Roman’s angry voice pierces the air.
“It’s just an estimate, Roman. It’s not like you couldn’t have done it yourself,” I remind him, as I slowly stand from the floor, rubbing my right shoulder that took the brunt of the impact.
“And if you listened when I actually told you about this project, you’d know why you were coming.”
“Remind me then.” I run my fingers through my hair as I head over to my dresser and pull out a pair of jeans and a polo with our construction company logo on it.
“This customer wants a small staff and background checks before stepping foot on the property. I didn’t want to put any of the other guys through the hassle and since it’s not a big job, it’s the three of us.”
A vague memory of him telling me and Holden this starts to resurface. It’s still not completely clear, but I do remember.
“Downstairs, five minutes,” he orders before turning and storming down the hallway. The heavy footfall of his boots on the wood floor echoes into my room.
I quickly dress, then sit on the edge of the bed and put on my boots, taking a little extra time to lace them up. A small piece of me wanting to piss off Roman just a little bit more than he already is. This job, though not a big one, is for a well known pack. One that, if they give a bad review, could break our company. We make decent money, but each job is important and needed. It’s one of the reasons Roman fights in the cages; all the winnings he places into a savings account in case we need it.
Once I’m dressed I head to the bathroom to piss, wash my hands and brush my teeth before letting my fingers run through my tousled hair.
“Better hurry up before the kraken finds his way back up here,” Holden says playfully as he pokes his head in the bathroom.
“Aren’t you worried about him?” I ask.
“Why would I be?” he answers, as he steps in the room beside me and picks up the comb, using it to tame his unruly hair.
“He just seems more wound up than normal this morning.”
“Yeah, who knows what it is.” He says as he continues to comb his hair.
“What time did you go to bed?” I ask, wondering if he was up late talking online with his project partner, River. Such an odd name. You’d think it belonged to a guy. Unless she is and is lying to the school.
“I went to bed around three thirty. We should get downstairs.” He doesn’t answer the question completely. Instead he leaves the bathroom. The way he’s dodging the question tells me he was talking to her.
I hurry behind him, catching him midway down the stairs. “Coffee,” I shout. “I need coffee.”
