Fucking hell. I haven't felt this kind of pain in a long, long time. Goddamn tequila. No man in his right mind should drink tequila. But I wasn't in my right fucking mind. And now I'm paying for it. I slowly sit up, feeling like I was hit by a truck and I don't remember a hangover ever feeling this bad. It's been years since I've had a hangover. You reach a certain point in alcoholism that your body becomes hungover when you're sober, and I was to that point. Then, tequila happened. Actually, some uptight good girl happened, which drove me to tequila.
"Fuck!" I scream in anger and pain. Anger about drinking tequila and the reasons I drank it.
When a girl shrieks after my yell, I jump up and try to focus my gaze on who the hell's in my apartment, but I can barely see straight.
"What the fuck?" I mumble, moving closer. "Carter?" My brows go high and I look down, making sure I'm wearing clothes and that's when I notice the blood. "Oh fuck!" I bellow and yank my shirt off. "What the fuck happened?" I scream at her in a panic.
"Well, he's not dead, folks." She's got that usual snarky tone and she stands then stretches her arms over her head. "You had a death wish last night, Grant Matthews. You fucking idiot. I saved you. You're welcome."
"Well." I study the shirt and start to believe her with the amount of blood on it. "Thanks, sweetheart, but how about you elaborate over some coffee." I stumble to the kitchen with a limp and realize I definitely got into some trouble last night.
My K cups seem to take a year longer than usual but I set a mug of coffee in front of her as she waits at the kitchen table.
"So, where do you come into play with all this? I'm guessing I was in a fight." I try to rack my brain but I got nothing.
She spins the coffee mug in her hands and glances up at me with pity written all over that pretty fucking face. "You honestly don't remember anything from last night, do you?"
"Did you at least get off?" I smirk at her, but she's not amused. "No. Nothing." I wave her on to get the actual story.
"From what I took, you're the last person to worry about me getting off." Her eyes glare into mine and she slowly takes a sip of her coffee. "So, Grant, you want...explicit details?"
I chuckle, loving a good ole scorned female. "Depends if you're going to disappoint again."
"Me?" she blurts, her eyebrows shooting up as high as they can fucking go. "I...excuse me?" She stands and storms over to me, shoving her finger in my chest and making me wince. "I did nothing fucking wrong, you dick. You're the one that stormed out of that room pouting!"
"You broke the bet. You fucking lied. We had a bet going and I held up my end. I fucking won and you backed out. It was between us. Not the four of us and I didn't even get what I won, then you gave what I wanted to Tommy before giving it to me!"
She starts to laugh. A slow, low laugh. Something that should probably creep me out.
"I gave...what you wanted?" Her mouth pops open and her eyes are wide. "And I guess my pussy was used goods after his dick was in me so you no longer wanted it?"
I shrug, keeping my eyes on my coffee before taking a drink. When she scoffs, I slam it down. "Fucking shoot me for wanting something first. Fucking shoot me. Literally," I groan and shove my hands through my hair as my head pounds.
"First of all, the deal was never that it'd be just me and you. Never was that specified. And secondly, how the fuck are you mad at me for this?" She laughs harshly. "Sounds like you need to take that up with your best friend."
"First of all, darlin'. The deal was you give me explicit details of what you want me to do to your pussy, then I do it. Telling two men you want a dick in ya ain't what I asked for. It ain't Tommy I got the problem with. It's you wanting Tommy over me." I slam my fist to the table, not wanting to say that out loud. I'm not jealous of my best friend, but maybe I got some resentment that Barns is trusted and wanted more than me by this girl.
"I don't want Tommy!" she barks, laughing hard. "I wanted you, you fucking fuck head!" She shakes her head, then steps closer to me. "I wanted your dick in my pussy. I wanted your hands around my neck. I wanted your come inside me. Not his." She's so close I can smell her. "So maybe you could reel back the jealousy and we can talk this out like adults and not try to drink ourselves into an early grave."
"You pulled the stick out of your ass for another man after telling me you're not uptight for how long?" I stand and stare down at her. "You asked for a dick, and if this was the dick you wanted, you should have probably asked for it. Don't matter, I got to see that pretty face covered in my come. It was good enough." That's a goddamn lie and that's why I was tequila drunk last night, still not knowing what the hell happened.
"It was good enough, huh?" She cocks her head and steps toward me, hear hand gripping my dick through my jeans. "So you got your good enough and that's it? That how it works?"
I chuckle and grit my teeth while her grip tightens. Grabbing her wrist I lean toward her face. "Don't start nothing you don't intend to finish, Carter Dawn," I warn her.
"Who said I don't intend on finishing this time? It's been a while since I've finished, Grant Matthews."
"I coulda helped you with that problem a long while ago if you woulda pulled the stick outta your ass." I thrust against her palm.
"I never had a fucking stick in my ass," she growls. "Or a dick, for that matter." She strokes me over my jeans and pushes on her tiptoes. "So you going to fuck me now or am I going to have to go home and take care of this soaking pussy without you?"
"Ask for it." I'm in control here.
She's gonna have to learn to unwind a little before I put my dick anywhere near her again. Takes a lot to get me off anymore and I'd hate to have the first girl I've actually craved ruin what I know can be a good time.
"Fuck me, Grant," she whispers, pushing her lips to my neck.
I grab her hips and push her thighs against the table, pressing my dick against her ass. "That how you ask for things, baby? Maybe I shoulda been more clear. Beg me, dirty girl."
"God, fuck," she huffs. "Please, Grant. Please fucking fuck me." She says it with more annoyance than anything and that's not what I'm looking for, but I'm not losing my opportunity.
"Yeah. Okay." I yank her shirt off and pop her bra all in under a minute. Next is her leggings and panties and before she can even step out of them, I'm bending her over my kitchen table and dragging my tongue from her pussy to her ass.
"Shit," she blurts, pushing back onto my face. "Fuck me, Grant," she pants, her hands gripping the sides of the table.
There's a fine art to the way I fuck. This girl ain't getting the dick until she's so wet and tight one thrust makes her come. I dip my tongue inside her pussy over and over until she's panting and whimpering, begging for the dick.
"Please, please, Grant," she growls, pushing back against me. She moves to spin but I push her back down against the table with enough force to tell her to say put. This ain't her rodeo. "Fuck," she whimpers. "Why won't you fuck me?"
I laugh as I stand, slowly unzipping my pants. "It ain't fun waiting on something you need, is it?" I glance at her as she glares at me over her shoulder.
"Just. Fuck. Me," she bites out, her eyes wild with lust and her pussy glistening for me.
"Just fuck me, she says." I laugh again, stroking my dick. I push the head against her soaked pussy and she tries to shove back over me, but I stop her, pressing her to the table so she can't move. "She wants to be fucked. She wants the dick," I taunt her, jerking off and wanting nothing more than to bury myself inside her. "She's a bad fucking girl. Ain't ya, Carter Dawn?"
Her head turns and she looks back at me. "Your dirty fucking whore," she pants, trying to push back around me.
"Mmmm, baby. You're damn right." I clench my jaw, pushing the head of my cock inside her only a couple inches while I come. The way she moaned, she thought I was gonna give it to her and the fact I'm not hurts me as much as it hurts her. Now she's gonna ride home with her pussy full of my come and she wasn't even fucked. "You're a good girl, Carter Dawn." I pull away from her and yank my pants up, zipping my zipper. "You done with your coffee?"
She stands, her hands holding her tits up and her eyes trying to drill holes through my head.
"Grant!" she shrieks as I grab her shirt and toss it to her.
"Did I give you a ride here? Or..? How'd you get here?" I move to the refrigerator casually as she pulls her clothes back on.
She snickers, grabbing her purse. "You fucked up your bike, you idiot. Crashed it out on Route Three and your ass was lucky I was behind you! It's in pieces out there on the road. Probably more by now because I left it there to get your ass here to clean you up. God, I fucking hate you!"
"No you don't." I chuckle, not believing her little story. "Hang on, hang on." I grab her arm when she tries to storm to the bathroom. "Where ya goin'?"
"To clean up then home to try and forget about you!" With a yank she frees her arm from my grasp. "Good luck picking up the pieces of your fucking bike!"
"Well, hang on." I stop her again, trying not to burst into the laughter I'm holding back. "You're not doing either of those things. I think your drive home with your pussy full of my come is one of the sexiest thoughts I've ever had. So." I turn her to the front door and point. "But before you go." Suddenly things aren't so funny anymore because she seems adamant that my bike's in pieces. "You fucking around about my bike?"
She clenches her jaw, glaring at me. "Get in my car." She storms out of my apartment and across the parking lot to her blue Mustang. It's a nice car and I bet it kills her driving it on those gravel roads.
I'm trying not to have a panic attack when I notice my bike's not outside and I know I rode it to work yesterday. Getting into her front seat, she seems to shift a few times and it makes me smirk that I'm probably sliding out of her.
"You okay, baby? Replaced that stick with something better?"
"Don't call me that," she whispers, hands tight on the steering wheel as she pulls out of my parking lot.
"Call you what?" I smirk over at her, trying to get comfortable in this seat but not until she shows me where my bike is will I not feel as high strung as I do right now.
"Baby. I'm not your baby." She glances over at me. "Your baby is currently in pieces on the side of the road."
"Hey, Carter." I wait until she looks over at me. "Is my come dripping out of your tight pussy right now? Or you so tight you holding it in?" I laugh at the infuriated noise she makes.
The entire ride I tease her and she doesn't have much to say except sexy little noises of frustration. I laugh at her for most the ride until I see it. Shrapnel from a bike...my baby.
My laughter stops and I sit forward, pain shooting through my entire body from the sudden move.
"I told you you were in an accident," she mutters, pulling the car over to the side of the road.
"This has to be a joke." I know it's not a joke. When she stops the car, I get out and my bike is in the ditch. "How the fuck am I alive right now?" I feel my stomach, my ribs, then my face. All sore. I never even looked at myself in the mirror today. "Oh fuck." My throat tightens and I stumble down into the ditch. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." When I grab my handlebars, I realize the seat's not attached, the handle bars are as good as scrap, and the motor is so bent, it's not even salvageable. I look back at Carter.
"You're lucky to be alive, Grant."
I inhale a slow breath. Sickness and fear twisting my gut. What the fuck have I become? I exhale before pulling my phone out of my pocket. The first person I'd call about this is Tommy but he can't fucking know. He'd kill me for almost killing myself.
My eyes hit Carter's. "You can't mention this." I'm begging without saying the words while I dial one of the shadiest assholes I know in this town so he can clean this shit up before the sheriff sees. Everyone knows this is my fucking bike. "OJ, I need a favor." I turn my back to her and try not to sound like such a pathetic fuck while I tell him I'll give him five hundred dollars to get rid of the evidence and never speak of this again. I'll report my bike stolen, insurance will cover it...fuck. I plop down to my ass, really regretting landing that hard then I dip my head between my knees.
"Grant," Carter says. I hear the crunch of her feet on the gravel road then she's standing next to me. "Come on, let's get out of here and get you cleaned up. I tried last night but you weren't having it. And I'm still not convinced you don't need stitches in that forehead of yours." All I can see are her toes and those flip flops she's always wearing. As cute as those toes are, I can't get turned on right now.
"If you tell Tommy about this you'll ruin my fuckin' life," I tell her cute toes. "Whatever differences we have." Finally looking up at her, I sigh. "You gotta put them aside for this. It's not a joke." I look at the remnants of what could have put me in the grave. "He's not going to give a fuck about the bike, he's going to fucking give up on me." My throat tightens and I clear it.
"You know," she huffs, plopping down to the ground next to me. "You're an awfully cocky guy to be so worried what you're best friend is going to think of a bike crash." She nudges my foot with hers. "You're alive, Grant. That's what matters."
"You don't know the half of it, Carter." I breathily laugh and stand, putting my hand out to pull her up. "He's more than my best friend. He's the only family I got left and him and his dad's been carin' for me since I was a kid. This ain't the first time I've done something this stupid. And the last time I did was when he told me he wouldn't stick around again. Not sure if you know, but." I chuckle and walk to her car, not sure why I'm telling her this but she's the only one around to listen right now. "I don't really have my shit together. I got the job thanks to his wife. I got my crop dusting job thanks to him. I got the job at the shop because I met Chase in school through Grant. Everything I've got is 'cause of that guy." I pull open the passenger door and take one more look at my bike. "Thanks for bringing me here." I clear my throat again before getting in.
She closes the door and walks around to her door before stopping and glancing over at my bike. She throws a brief look over at me before she jogs over to my bike and I watch as she, with all her strength, tries ripping off the license plate. Thank god for smart girls with good looks. When she gets in, she drops it into my lap.
"Thanks," I mutter and lay my head back, rubbing my hands over my face. "Not sure how I'll explain this shit," I grunt and flip down her visor to look at myself in the mirror. It's a fucking scary site.
"I'm not sure you're going to have to work that hard at it," she whispers, cursing. "Hey um..." Her hand rests on mine and squeezes as her eyes fly to her rearview mirror. "Shit." I hear the truck pull up beside her car and Carter whimpers a little, rolling her window down. "Affton," she says as cheery as she can. "Heeeyyyyy."
"Fuck," I groan and rub my face.
Affton jumps out of the truck. "What the hell happened?" she hollers, of course the first thing she sees is my bike in the ditch. "Where the fuck were you? With this fucking idiot?" She's screaming at Carter before ripping open my door. "Grant Fucking Matthews! What the fuck did you do!"
"Hey, hey." I try to calm down the shrieking because my head's going to explode. "And I didn't do anything. Carter drove me off the road." It was funny in my head but now they're both screaming and I feel like I could puke.
I jump out of the car and project my vomit into the ditch. I expect one of them to kick me in the ass to roll into my own puke but someone puts their hand on my back.
"We need to get you home, Grant," Carter says, her hand rubbing down my spine.
"Fuck," I huff from puking. Affton's going to tell Tommy. And I can't talk myself out of this one. Pulling gum from my pocket, I hope the mint eases my sick stomach.
"My house," Affton says like she's my mom as she storms to the truck.
I almost tell Carter to take me home, but I know she wouldn't so I shut my mouth and close my eyes. She starts her car in silence and pulls back onto the road to follow Affton back to their house. Her hand reaches over and takes mine in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"He's going to be happy you're alive," she says with a smile on her face. "You look like shit though. You seriously need a shower."
I stare at her hand a minute. This girl's a newcomer. Probably won't last long. She fuckin' hates me but she's a good girl so she's probably doing her saintly duty or some shit, but she's the last person I want faked compassion from.
"Did you text her?" I ask the question that's been rolling through my head since Affton pulled up.
"Did I text who? Affton?" She's more than offended and snatches her hand away from mine. "When would I have done that? Before or after I was saving your ass from being roadkill last night? Don't you think if I had texted her she would have blown down your door last night to get to you?"
Valid point. I hate this fucking girl.
I lean over and grab her face, kissing her, making her slam on the brakes. I hold her head so she can't back away from the kiss. That was a true kiss too. A thank you of sorts.
"Thank you," I tell her, moving back to my seat and looking out the side window while I figure out what the fuck I'm going to say to Tommy.
She slowly lets off the brake and her hand silently finds mine as we finish the drive to Tommy's house without any more words. When she stops in front of his house he's already standing on the front porch, arms crossed and his face red as a mother fucking beet.
"Just try not to die." Carter smirks over at me and squeezes my hand then laughs at the look on my face. "I'm joking, god. Learn to take a joke, Grant. Tommy's like a brother to you. He's not going to kick you out of his life."
"Hey." I slide my finger over the back of her hand before looking into her eyes. "Your pussy still full of my come?"
She rolls her eyes then hauls off and slugs me in the arm. "You're a dick," she mutters and pops open her door. "Hey, Tommy!" She waves at him with a bright fucking smile on her face.
He nods to her then takes the steps one at a time to get to the car. "Out of the car, Matthews."
"What's up, man?" I laugh getting out of the car.
With a glance toward the girls, he sighs before looking at me again. "You look like shit."
"I feel fuckin' good though. Nutted in Carter about an hour ago." I wink at her as she sits on the porch but I don't think she can hear me.
He doesn't give me any warning before his fist connects with my nose, dropping me to the driveway.
"You fucking drove smashed again!" His bellow echoes in the trees.
"Tommy!" I hear Carter yell but I shove her off when she tries kneeling next to me.
"It's okay, baby." I spit out a mouthful of blood that's rolling from my nose. "Take your pretty ass inside and get me an ice pack?" I smile at her, just feeling the blood pouring from my nose. The only reason I don't want her around is because I don't know if Tommy's going to start the long list of my fuckups and I'd rather she weren't around for proof I'm a pathetic fuck.
"The plane in Farmer Morriss's barn wasn't enough five years ago. Then it was your mom's car. Then the guy you almost killed in that bar fight a few years ago. There's so many more! And now you're tryin' to kill yourself?" Tommy curses. "Fuck, Grant. What did I fuckin' tell you last time you did something this stupid? Remember that? Last year when you decided that burning the trailer your mom raised you in was the only way to 'set her free'? What the fuck did I tell you?" he screams.
"I think you said something like...how do you look like you were set on fire but your hair still looks good. Something like that." I nod at him, waiting for the next punch, hoping he'll fucking knock me out this time.
"Just fuckin' perfect." He starts to pace the driveway. "You know what's worse than the scare that one of these days you're going to end up dead?" He stops pacing. "The fuckin' feeling of being let down over and over again. And feeling like there's not a goddamned thing in the world I can do to make you realize you have too many fucking people in this town that care about you to throw your life away on booze. Fuck!"
I spit again, pinching my nose. "I'm a fuck up, Barns. You've said it yourself. It ain't a lie. I'll never grow up." I shrug like I've made peace with this.
"You don't have to be, Grant. And you fucking know it. That's the worst part about it. It's not like you don't have every opportunity to make the right choice and do the right thing. But somehow, you never do," he says, the tone in his voice changing from anger to sadness.
"It's in my blood." I get to my feet. "Just get it through your head I'm not following in your footsteps. I'm happy for you, man. I really am. You've got a great wife. You've got an awesome life. You like to go to bed at eleven and wake up at five for work then come home to your girl. Date nights and." I frantically flail my hand while jealousy strangles me. "Love and having someone to go home to daily. It ain't fucking me! I'm fine doing what I'm doing!" I pace away from him and spit nothing but blood. "Fuck!"
"I don't believe a word you just muttered. You've got the perfect opportunity right now in front of you and you're still fucking it up. Maybe you should stop planning your pity party, Grant. Stop drinking until you can't remember shit. Stop acting like you're too good to settle with a good woman and you would see that you can have it just as good as the rest of us."
"Here's your ice pack," Carter says softly from behind me.
I whip around and stare at her. Fucking sympathy all over that pretty face but not for the right reasons.
"Thanks," I mutter, taking the ice pack. "Good show? The south all you hoped it'd be?"
She sighs and shakes her head. "Tommy, are you done with him?"
"Whatever," Tommy bitches, kicking up the rocks before heading back inside and slamming the door behind him.
"Let's go get you cleaned up, Grant Matthews."
"Hey, why don't you just stay the fuck away from me before they disown you too. Don't get mixed up in my shit cause you're a good girl, Carter. I need a fucking drink." I look down the road, remembering how far the walk to the Kenshaw Ranch is and I groan, in no condition to walk that distance.
"Or, you could walk inside that house, apologize to your best friend, then let me get you all cleaned up so you don't get blood in my car." She scrunches her nose.
I stare at her a minute before shaking my head. Walking through the front door I cup my hands around my mouth. "Hey, Tommy, I'm sorry I'm not you, man. I'm sorry I'm a burden and a fuck up," I call through the house before looking at Carter. "Like that?"
"Nope. Not at all what I had in mind." She shakes her head. "Maybe once you're clean and don't look like death we'll try again." She ushers me to her bathroom. "Soap. Washra—" She stops. "You already know where everything is. Just don't let the water directly hit that cut on your head, okay?"
I salute her before slamming the door. This isn't the shower I normally use and I've got clothes in the other room, but I need a hot shower to calm the fuck down before Affton comes up swinging next. The water runs red for a few minutes and I make sure I'm not bleeding anymore before I get out of the tub and use the white towels. As I head toward the room I normally stay in when I'm here, Affton stops in the hall, her arms crossed over her chest.
"I'm sorry." I shrug but I really mean it.
"You know how bad he'd feel if you died, Grant. We all would because none of us have actually tried to get you help for your drinking. It's all fun and games. You're the drunk in the group. It's not funny anymore. I don't want you to die. It'll kill him. For once, think about someone other than yourself." She moves around me.
It was never funny but that don't mean I'm going to change. You don't just stop drinking for no reason. I lean my forehead against the bedroom door and feel pain from a bruise. I have a reason. I could have fucking died last night. After dressing, I go on a mission to find Tommy. As I head for the yard 'cause I'm sure he's with his goats, I stop in the kitchen where Carter's cooking. I lean against the doorframe and watch her. I don't have actual feelings for this girl. It's not even possible. I was just pissed she didn't give me what I wanted. I'm pissed she's making me work so hard to fuck her when I know she wants me. I'm pissed because every time I see her I want to touch her. And I'm a little bit pissed I actually like her company. I need to use her and get her out of my system. She's just fun to fuck with.
Finally realizing I'm staring at her, she looks over and smiles. A true Carter Dawn smile. Traces of sympathy gone. The hint she wants to beat me at my games vanished. I gravitate toward that smile like it's actually for me and before I realize what I'm doing, I wrap my arms around her, pressing my nose into her hair and inhaling deep.
"You smell like bacon," I moan.
"Great," she says, pulling away. "I was busy taking care of a drunk last night and haven't had time to shower this morning so sorry about that." She grabs a plate from the counter and shoves it at me. "Bacon. And..." She spins and turns back around with a mug in her hand. "Coffee. Hangover cure-all, right?" She's got a tiny dimple right next to the tip of her grin when she's smiling like that.
"Guess we'll see." I glance out the sliding door but don't see Tommy. When she sits across from me I stare at her, wondering what the hell I'm doing, but it doesn't stop the words. "What do I say to him?" I quickly look at my plate when she looks at me surprised I even asked.
"I can't tell you how to make this better with him. You know the guy better than I do. But I can tell you what I'd do." She takes a deep breath and leans back in her chair. "You need to lay off the alcohol, Grant. And that's coming from someone who only cares about how Affton and Tommy would handle your death. I don't want to deal with that aftermath."
"You're a compassionate broad, Carter Dawn." I smirk, shoving bacon into my mouth. "That knows how to cook bacon."
"In all seriousness, as much as I hate you, you've kind of grown on me. And I'd feel horrible if you died because you drank too much and did something stupid, which by the sounds of it happens pretty regularly." Her brow cocks and there's a look like I'm an asshole on her face. "If something happened and I hadn't said anything or tried to help you, I'd feel pretty shitty." She breathes heavy. "And I might miss your ass, too," she mumbles almost unintelligibly.
"Literally? My ass? You don't get an ass like this without dedication." I grin over at her and wink when she rolls her eyes.
"Well it's not like I could say I would miss your dick. Since, you know, you refuse to stick it in me." She shrugs and stands up, heading for the coffee maker.
"I'm damn sure glad there aren't kids around this house to hear the conversations that I walk in on," Tommy says, making a beeline for the coffee pot. “Thanks," he tells Carter when she refills his cup for him. He turns and leans against the counter, glaring at me.
I shrug and smirk at him. "Truce?"
He shakes his head. "No." Hopefully the scalding coffee he's downing will cool him off.
Carter's eyebrows push together but she remains silent, waiting for me to grovel or something. I don't fucking grovel.
"You're going to stop drinking, Grant," he says like I got no say in it.
My eyes flash from her to him and his eyes are pinned on me with the most serious expression I've ever seen from him. I rub the back of my neck, trying to think of how I can talk my way out of this but I got nothing.
"You say that like I got some sort of problem. The only problem was that I drank tequila. You know nothing fucks me up like tequila does."
Tommy sets his coffee mug down on the counter and crosses his arms in front of him. "Grant, would you say you're like a brother to me?"
"Yeah." I shrug with a nod. "Creepy brothers that fuck the same chicks." I wink at Carter.
"And Affton. You're a fan of her?" He ignores my comment and his eyes are still pinned on mine.
"A fan like she's my Jo? My sister I fuck? Yeah."
His eyes narrow and he lets out a growl. "Then why the fuck would you pilot a plane with the girl that your brother's in love with as a passenger when you're piss roaring drunk! Do you know how lucky we are that you haven't killed not only yourself, but my fucking girl, too?" He storms over to me, slamming his fist on the table and leaning down to get in my face. "You've put my family in danger how many times? How many times in the last year have you piloted a plane with the love of my life in it when you were under the influence of any type of alcohol?"
I don't think answering 'every time' is going to keep me safe, so I drop my gaze.
"It was the tequila," I mutter the pathetic excuse, but he's not wrong. Not only have I flown her around drunk, I've driven her around while drinking from a flask. We all just laughed it off...it's not so funny when you start thinking about what could happen.
"Fuck the tequila!" he roars, slamming his fist to the table again before Affton appears behind him and rests her hand on his back.
"Grant." She steps forward. "I'm putting you on a leave of absence until you start taking this seriously."
"Affton!" I bellow and get to my feet. "I'm supposed to fly you to Germany soon! What're you going to do? Take a boat?"
"I'd rather fucking walk than trust you with my life anymore," she snarls at me. I've never seen her so angry. "I never thought about everything you risk each time I put my life in your hands. I'm done. You're done until you take this seriously." She walks out of the room before we hear the tears but I saw them.
I look at Tommy. "You can't be serious, dude. I'd never hurt your girl."
"The Kenshaws are on board too, Grant. No more work. Period. Until you can clean yourself up. I've already talked to Brandt." He backs away and shakes his head. "I'm sorry, man. I'm sorry we didn't do anything like this sooner. And I'm sorry it got this out of hand."
"So now what? I'm the Felder of the group? You all think I'm as big of a fuck up as he is?" I harshly laugh.
"Who's Felder?" Carter speaks up.
"No one of importance," Tommy growls then looks over at me. "And no. You're not the fucking Felder of the group. He needed to go because he was actually a helpless fuck up. We all started wishing he weren't around much anyway. You, on the other hand, need to get your shit together because I'm not gonna fucking lose you." He curses. "Fuck, Grant."
I stare at him. My fucking brother. The only person I've ever looked up to. And the disappointment on his face is the worst fucking part of all this.
I nod. "I get it." I have no choice here. I'm defeated. "I'm sorry."
"I love you, man." Tommy says, walking over to me and hugging me tight.
"Yeah, I love you too, dude. I'm not trying to scare anyone or piss them off. Tell Affy I'm sorry. I mean it." I let him go and head out the back door before he sees the emotions on my face.
Lose my family, or lose the booze? What choice do I have here?