I head into his bathroom—it’s bigger than my Dad’s house—and try to fix my hair. It’s all mussed like I was doing naughty things. If his mother is home, I’ll die. I open a drawer looking for a comb or something to smooth down my frizzy fro when I see a plethora of little orange prescription bottles. They roll to the front of the drawer making it easy to see the name typed on the stickers: BRYAN FERRO.
I lift one and look at it. I don’t recognize the drug, but some of the others are familiar. Bottle after bottle of pain killers, mostly narcotics, fill the drawer. I glance back at Bryan, asleep on the bed, and wonder what he’s gotten himself into. He’s a pill junkie? I couldn’t even tell he was on anything.
The spot in the center of my chest feels hollow with this revelation. The Bryan I knew didn’t mess around with drugs, but this man does. I wonder what else he does, what other forms of entertainment he partakes of that are foreign to me.
I close the drawer and open another, finally finding a brush. I run it through my hair and do the best I can given the state my hair is in. I tidy up my smeared make-up and decide that’s the best it’s going to get.
The question of how to get home is still reeling through my mind. I need to get to Maggie still and convince her to stay with me and Neil tonight. Neil. That’s going to be weird. I shove aside the thoughts and tiptoe past Bryan and out his door, quietly closing it behind me.
When I turn around, I smack into a firm chest and look up. Jon Ferro, Bryan’s cousin, is standing there with a bemused look on his face.
As soon as he recognizes me his happy expression shifts to anger. “What are you doing here?” Jon is all muscle, dark hair, and bright blue eyes like his brothers. He’s my least favorite person to talk to, so I try to walk past him, but he grabs my elbow. “Don’t tell me he’s gotten back together with you.”
God, I hate him. My eyes narrow into slits and I tug my arm away. “Do not touch me.” My voice is steady, low, and even. “And he’s asleep so don’t be your normal dickish self and wake him up.”
Jon glances at the door with a confused expression. By the time he looks back for me, I’m hurrying down the hallway. Don’t follow me. Don’t follow me. Don’t follow me. I chant the words inside my head, but they do no good. Actually, they appear to do the opposite, because Jon chases after me and falls in step at my side. “You know you’re not wanted here.”
“Yeah, I know.” I hurry ahead, trying to get out the door before Jocelyn or the rest of Bryan’s family sees me. They can’t stand me, but I have no idea why. Bryan’s the one who broke up with me. I should be insignificant and forgotten.
“Then, why’d you come?”
I stop abruptly and look at the guy. He has no clue what Bryan did to me, how he showed up and turned my life upside down. “Bryan didn’t give me much of a choice and now that I’m trying to leave, you won’t let me. What do you want Ferro?” I fold my arms over my chest like I’m tough shit, but I’m shaking inside.
Jon studies me for a moment, looking for lies, before asking, “How’d you get here?”
“Bryan drove me.”
“How are you leaving?”
“No idea. Probably walking until I can get my friend to pick me up.”
Jon laughs at that. “You can’t walk. Some drunk movie star will smear your ass across the pavement.” I continue walking, ready to shove out the front door, when Jon grabs my arm again. “Hallie, wait—and don’t go that way. Aunt Lizzy is out there and you know how she is, perpetually pissed. Come around back. You can take my car. I’ll get it from you later after I slap some sense into my idiot cousin.”
He releases me and I follow after him. I want to protest, but I’m not waking up Bryan to ask for a ride home. Besides, he shouldn’t be driving if he’s doped up out of his freaking mind. I glance at Jon, who is one of Bryan’s best friends and blurt it out because I have to know how far Bryan’s fallen since I’ve seen him last. “Do you guys party like you used to? Or did your choice in entertainment mature over the past few years?”
Jon’s face scrunches up as he looks over his shoulder at me. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Nothing.” I’m sorry I asked. Jon gives me another look, but doesn’t let it drop.
“If you have a question, ask it.”
“Do you guys party hard? Drugs? Hookers? Ya know, stuff like that?”
Jon lurches to a stop and spins on his heel. He looks down at me with an expression that I can’t read. “Is this because of Trystan Scott?”
“No.” That was a weird response. Why would I ask about a rock star?
Jon shakes his head slightly and lets out an annoyed breath. “Bryan’s clean. He doesn’t dip his dick where he shouldn’t, and keeps his nose clean. The worst stuff the guy does is usually with me and Scott, which involves alcohol and a vast amount of stupidity.” He smirks, “But Bryan’s funny as hell—smashed or not.” Jon’s smile fades and his eyes cut back to me. “Why’d you ask?”
I lie. “No reason.”
Jon rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I’ll find out eventually and if it stems back to you—”
My eyes narrow and my voice steels. I mean every word I say. “I wouldn’t hurt him.”
“Yeah. Whatever.” He doesn’t believe me. We’re at the back of the house and I follow Jon outside to his little red car.
When I get closer I can tell what it is and smile. “You’re driving a chick car.”
Jon shoots me an evil look as he hands me the key fob. “Yeah, courtesy of my mother and her attempts to emasculate me. Do me a favor and park it in the ‘hood and leave the keys on the seat. You live in a rough part of town, right?” He grins at me and slips his hands into his pockets.
“You want me to take your car so it gets stolen?” He nods. “Pampered ass.” I grumble and open the door before sliding into the driver’s seat.
Jon pushes the door shut. “I have to get rid of it. Do you have a better suggestion?”
I start the engine. “Uh, yeah. Sell it like a normal person.”
“Fine, you have tits—you want it?” Jon’s being crass trying to get under my skin.
I laugh at him. “I have no money, smart ass.”
“But you will, right? How about this, ten grand and it’s yours—or park it someplace horrible and let the thing get stolen. You pick.”
Ten grand? Is he mental? “The car is brand new. The sticker price had to be close to fifty thousand—this thing is loaded.”
“Again, so?” I consider it for a moment. I need a car and I could spend ten grand of my advance to get this one. I was going to get an old Honda. A new Miata would be way cooler. Jon grins when he knows he has me hooked. “Drop off a check whenever you get around to it. The title is in the glove box.”
Jon starts to walk away, but I call out to him. “Hey! Does Bryan usually fall asleep this early?”
Jon turns and watches me for a moment before shaking his head. “No, maybe you wore him out. Oh, and in case I wasn’t clear—stay away from him. He has enough shit going on without you reappearing.”
I laugh and drive away muttering, “If you only knew.”