“I saw you, and you stink like cigars and booze.”
That was the aroma parties were made of. Nevertheless, I smelled my underarms. My deodorant was working. It had to be my breath. Haven had scoffed at how bad it stank, but I had taken the time to brush my teeth before I came.
Haven.The chick had been stuck in my brain since she’d stormed out of my house.
I’d been turning over her sassy comment about how I needed to shape up. I wasn’t ready to do anything but wallow in misery. Unless she’d experienced the death of a loved one, then she wouldn’t know what I was going through.
“Whatever. Can we get on with why I’m here?” I didn’t want to waste my Saturday sitting in a lawyer’s office.
I had no idea what I was going to do when I walked out of there, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to be all happy and shit like those people in the park outside his window who played fetch with their dogs or lounged on a blanket, eating lunch without a care in the world.
Franklin set his expensive Mont Blanc pen down and sat back in his leather chair, moving his jaw from side to side as he scrutinized me.
I hated when his black-as-night eyes screamed how disappointed he was in me, much like my old man’s had. I’d known Franklin since I was a tyke. He and my dad had been best buds in college. They’d both studied law. However, my dad hadn’t practiced even though he’d passed the bar. He’d had a vision of starting his own company with products designed for the oil industry. Texas was rife with oil refineries, so he’d thought he could make more selling a good product rather than chasing down thugs and witnesses since he’d been into criminal law.
Despite that, he’d hired Franklin to handle all the legal stuff that came with a company.
“So is partying how you mourn your family?” His scowl said I was a loser.
“Fuck you. If you must know, I’m still numb to it all. I don’t see you crying your eyes out.”
He steepled his fingers near his mouth. “I’ve got work to do.”
I popped forward and rested my elbows on my knees. “So do I.”Beer to drink.“I have football games to win.”
“You think you can throw a football?”
Hot and sticky anger made me tense. Now that my old man wasn’t giving me the third degree about football, Franklin was. While I occasionally didn’t mind the kick in the ass every now and then, I wasn’t in the mood to hear his condescending tone.
“Leave football to me. I’ll leave the law to you. Now we can get on with things.” My head was starting to pound.
He sighed, briefly closing his eyes. Then he lowered his hands to the desk, sitting up straighter. “I’m sorry, Ryker. I’m so fucking pissed that he’s gone, that your family is gone.” His eyes filled with tears.
I inhaled deeply, hoping that all the emotions I had buried deep inside didn’t come spewing out. Because once they did, I wouldn’t be able to play football or do anything else.
I threw my head in my hands and grabbed onto my hair. Pulling every strand out seemed like something that would take away the pain in my chest.
How do people deal with this shit?Losing anyone, let alone the four people who had meant the world to me, was beyond my comprehension.
I needed a drink.
I blew out a loud, audible breath as I eyed the tray on his credenza that banked the side wall.
Fuck it.
I hopped up and practically sprinted like a damn alcoholic who needed a quick fix.
“You think that’s wise?” Franklin asked.
I uncapped the expensive single-malt scotch with one hand and flipped him off with my other. “I Ubered over here.” No way was I driving. The alcohol from the last two nights was flowing freely through me. So given the bad luck I’d had, I was treading lightly. If I lost the opportunity to play football, then I would bury myself with my family.
He sighed. “Pour me one too.”
Now we were getting somewhere. “Coming up.”
After pouring two glasses of my father’s favorite Glenlivet Scotch, I handed Franklin his and returned to my chair.
We toasted to my father, mother, sister, and brother.
