Classic (Adrenaline Book 1) Page 4

  I giggle and shake my head.

  She's right. And I know she's right. I just had this talk with Nadie earlier. I gotta start living. I deserve to start living. I'm so tired of this weird limbo of starting to break out only to crawl back in to keep my dad from an early grave. I gotta do this for me. I'm 21. It's okay to do some things for me.

  “Heels yes. Sex with strangers? Pass.”

  Hayli tosses her head back, her red hair tickling her back, drawing several more eyes from male on lookers all around.

  Every time. Imagine if Jessica Rabbit were to come to life. Yeah. She looks like that with less bright blue eye shadow and smaller boobs. The rest is accurate. Curves and colors.

  “Come on. Let's dance before my buzz wears completely off.” She hops off the seat and yanks me towards the stairs to go to the lower level where the heartbeat of the fun seems to be.

  Between the way we're dressed and the look of determination on my best friend's face, I think it's safe to say we're about to send that heart into cardiac arrest. Not a terrible way to kick off the summer...

  Merrick

  You know that weird space between deep sleep and refusing to open your eyes? I spend a lot of time there. I'm not a light sleeper, but I rarely find myself deep in dreams. More often than not now, I just feel stuck there. Stuck in a black hole I can't climb out of, but not sure I want to. It's an odd peace. A heavy but euphoric emptiness.

  Suddenly there's pressure of another body on top of mine. It shifts until I feel knees against each side of my hips.

  Let's not start judging me on my drunken choices alright? Can you honestly tell me you've never had too much to drink and then fucked someone to forget your problems? Huh. Well, if you haven't then good for you...no need to fucking rub it in. We can't all be perfect.

  My eyes open to a topless, petite, strawberry blonde girl with freckles scattered across her skin.

  Placing my tan arms behind my head, I raise my eyebrows. “Comfortable?”

  She nods eagerly and squeaks, “I can't believe I slept with Merrick McCoy!”

  And I just became another mark on someone's minor celebrity check list. I'd complain a little more, but she did cure drunk dick, so I guess we'll call it even.

  With a giggle she pushes her obviously brushed hair behind her ear.

  Please tell me you don't do that...We know what your hair should look like in the morning and trust me, that's not the kind of bed head we care about.

  “I mean…you’re Merrick McCoy!”

  “That's what it says on my driver's license.”

  “You were...oh my God! Better than my dreams...” Her confession churns my stomach.

  Yup. I deserve this. I deserve this for thinking getting drunk and dick diving my problems away was a good idea. Why couldn't I just get drunk and fall asleep alone. It had been working out fine for me.

  My door cracks open and Ben's face appears. “Breakfast.”

  That's why. Fucking Ben.

  Looking back at the cute, but not really worth more than a one night stand sitting in my lap I hum, “Well looks like it's time for you to go.”

  Disappointed she pouts, “So soon?”

  “Yeah.”

  She slides her herself off of my lap and onto the bed allowing me to grab a pair of boxers and gym shorts. As I slide them on she whines, “So…tomorrow?”

  Knowing there’s no way that’s happening, I give her a crooked grin and ease the rejection. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?” She sounds slightly let down. “Just maybe?”

  On my way out of the room, I say over my shoulder, “That’s better than most girls get.”

  There's a noise that sounds like an annoyed scoff.

  Honesty isn't for everyone.

  I head past Destin's room and our shared bathroom, and down the short hall that leaks into the large open living room. Our living room is the largest room in the whole fucking apartment, closely followed by the kitchen it's connected too. It has large, long couches, gaming chairs, bean bags, a huge flat screen mounted on the wall connected to cable and gaming consoles. The rest of the space is filled with shelves packed with DVDs, video games, car magazines, and other random crap we've collected over the years. The walls that are painted some cream color Knoxie demanded because it was supposedly soothing, are framed with vintage posters that once belonged to my father. While the room is constantly flooded with us or our friends, most nights of the week it doubles as Ben's bedroom.

  He's never spent any more time at home than he had to. What's really pathetic is the number of girls who have gave it up on that couch.

  Moving towards the wooden kitchen table that Ben's already at with an empty plate in front of him, I try to force on a more cheerful expression. Knoxie who's standing over a skillet frying bacon from the smell of it, looks just as overjoyed to be awake.

  Before I have a chance to say anything, the girl from last night storms out the front door slamming it behind her.

  “Another pleased customer,” Knoxie grumbles as she tosses the bacon onto a serving plate.

  Ben tosses his face at me. “Good question Knoxie. How was she?”

  I drop down in my seat and shake my head. “She didn't ask that.”

  “She did too.”

  “I did not.” Knoxie drops a plate of bacon, a plate of eggs, and waffles onto the table.

  “Was she any good?” Ben reaches for a piece of bacon when Knoxie pops his hand.

  Unsure of how it went last night at all, I shrug. “You know. Another day another rebound.”

  “Come on.” Ben elbows me. “You mean to tell me she’s not better than Rosalyn? I mean I could hear her screams over my own girl's screams last night. She had to be bringing something.”

  Honestly, I don't remember. I vaguely recall lips on my dick. Not much else. Yeah, I'm aware what a shitty person that makes me look like, but at least I have minor remorse. And I do mean minor. She did suck me off.

  “I don't really feel like listening to another set of McCoys compare where they laid their dicks last night, so if you could just hold off until I've had a couple of beers for the day or Bailey's in my coffee I would appreciate it,” Knoxie sneers sitting down across from us with a coffee cup in her hand.

  “Another set? Who beat us to the punch?” Ben questions reaching for a waffle when Knoxie pops his hand again. “Damn it Knoxie! When can I eat?”

  “Shots.” She gives us a stern look. “Have you had 'em?”

  The two of us shake our heads and she lets out a deep sigh before standing back up to grab them. When she plops back down in the seat across from us she slides over the needles and small vials to fill them with. In what practically feels like unison, we load and inject them into our arms.

  You get used to the prick. Barely registers any more. Besides I have a brightly colored collage of the Route 66 sign, broken highway, a hot rod, and McCoy tatted on the back of right calf muscle. Needles don't bother me.

  “Do you realize without the discount we get from The Devil the amount you fuck heads spend in shots rivals the amount of money you make racing?” She fusses grabbing her coffee cup.

  “Good thing we get a discount then,” Ben replies smugly finally having success at grabbing food.

  The shots are filled with a drug called Enilanerda or EA. Basically, it ramps up your immune system to kill any STDs that may try to weasel their way in. For chicks it also prevents unwanted pregnancies. Now, you're looking at me, probably wondering why this drug isn't legal or flying off shelves. Aside from the money it would cost pharmaceutical companies, no drug is without its drawbacks. EA has an effect on your sex drive. Every time you take it, you run the risk of becoming dependent on it in order to get it up or even lose the capability of ever getting it up again. Risk to gain ratio is in your court. It's worth it if you ask me.

  “You could just stop fucking for sport,” Knoxie suggests.

  Ben rolls his eyes scooping eggs onto his plate. “Where the fuck is the fun in that Kno
x?”

  My mouth opens to comment when a strange female walks past us at the table towards the front door with Madden behind her. From her messy hair and dreamy eyed look, one thing is clear.

  She's clearly been freshly fucked.

  I watch my brother open a drawer, grab two needles and vials, without speaking a word to us. The girl's eyes drift over to Knoxie who's doing her to best to hide her obvious desire to wanna punch her in the face.

  Even if you don't know Knoxie very well, you know the death threat look chicks give other chicks. Yeah that shit is right there.

  Madden tosses his attention at Knoxie. “Shop. 10 minutes.”

  With a sarcastic look she raises her eyebrows. “20. I'd rather you shower skank off, so I don't have to smell that all afternoon.”

  The girl squeaks, Ben laughs, and Madden shakes his head. “You're such a morning person Knoxie.”

  “You would be too after listening to a bitch in heat all night,” Knoxie snaps.

  Madden's one night stand jeers, which is when he puts a hand on her back and pushes her towards the front door. He doesn't say anything else as they exit, but the look on Knoxie's face says plenty.

  As soon as the door is shut Ben questions, “You don't like listening to Madden fuck?”

  “I don't like listening to any of you fuck. This fucking apartment is like a whore house at 2 A.M. You assholes should all be thankful we don't have fucking neighbors.”

  With a mouthful of food Ben jokes, “The neighbors would know my name.”

  “The Clinic knows your name.” She leans back in her wooden chair. “Anyway, you coming down to the shop, Merrick?”

  “We have plans for the night,” Ben interrupts grabbing another waffle.

  On a groan I deny, “No we don't.”

  “Oh but we do.” His devilish smirk forces me to shake my head.

  “No. We don't. Your last plans had me waking up with a piece of strange ass whose name I can't remember and a small hangover. I'm not doing that shit two nights in a row.”

  I'd rather grab a couple cans of paint and drown my sorrows a different way.

  “I've got something better.”

  Suspiciously I turn my head. “Better how?”

  “It's a surprise,” he announces with a chuckle. The two of us give him a displeased look and he quickly snaps, “Why are you both looking at me like that?”

  “Ben, surprises with you often require trips to the courthouse or hospital,” Knoxie sighs.

  “She has a point. So forgive me if I'm not in the mood for either of those.”

  “The trust in this family is really going downhill,” he says wiping his hands. With a serious face he turns to me. “Tonight will be fun. Promise.”

  Knoxie toys with her coffee mug. “Your promises are like condoms. Should be warned they typically break.”

  I laugh as Ben gives her the finger.

  She's not wrong. And more importantly I'm not sure I'm in the mood for another round of 'Ben Style' fun. I gotta learn to tell this asshole no.

  “Well before Ben gets you two a prison sentence, you wanna come down and help out? I've got a lambo that needs loving....”

  Curious, I lean forward on both my elbows. “What's Madden got?”

  “The Devil's Shelby...”

  On a low whistle I lick my lips. “I think I can swing by the shop and lend a hand...”

  “Make sure you hit the shower first. I don't wanna smell you either.”

  “Cuz are you not gonna eat?” Ben gestures at the food.

  “Not hungry.” I lean back. “You do know if you eat all that before Daniel wakes up, he's gonna lay hands on you.”

  “He should get up sooner.” Ben shrugs. “Or Knoxie should be a shittier cook.”

  She smirks. “I've had years of practice cooking for the infamous McCoys. I've perfected that shit.”

  “Infamous McCoys,” Ben echoes smacking another bite.

  Infamous isn't all it's cracked up to be that's for sure.

  Jovi

  “Hold still, Jo’. I'm almost done,” Nadie fusses.

  “Where are those damn cuffs?” My father's voice echoes through the house. “Nadie!”

  “Right top drawer. Back corner!” She yells in return gently pulling the curling iron out of my hair.

  “What would he do without you?” I ask her reflection in the mirror.

  Fluffing my hair she counters, “What would you do?”

  “Have Hayli tackle this.”

  What? I would! My dark brown hair is naturally wavy, so I've mastered the art of straightening it, but the whole straightening it to add curls to it, is not something I can say I've ever been successful at. Hayli on the other? That girl uses a curling iron like Harry Potter's wand.

  My father voice rocks the house, “Are you done yet?”

  “I still haven't gotten dressed!” I playfully call back to him.

  “Your father is already stressed out, please don’t make it worse.” Nadie whispers harshly.

  “What!” He shouts marching into my bedroom, face appearing next to my bed, across the room from my bathroom. Seeing me dressed in the full length black gown that's fitted at the top and loose on the bottom because I know how much he hates when I'm too on display, he lets out a deep breath. “That's not funny Jo'.”

  “It was a little funny Dad.” I wink as Nadie shuts off the hair tool.

  “Can we go? It's not gonna look good if we're late.”

  Strutting out of my bathroom with Nadie slightly behind me, I sigh, “Yes.”

  He extends his toffee colored hand that's just a couple shades lighter than my own.

  This is it. This is the biggest event of the year for him. And this is the one time of year that never fails to remind him that my mother is gone. That she's not here with him on his big night. And the charity event to honor her death won't let him forget either.

  On the ride over, my father spends most of the time on the phone, discussing different emergencies that apparently can't wait even on a night as special as this one. For the most part, it's background noise to me.

  Growing up, as dad climbed the ranks, so did it's ability to slave away his attention. Most nights he doesn't even sleep at home. Sometimes I wonder how I ever got conceived. Mom was a beautiful balance. So attentive. So invested in me and my life. Now Nadie. I'm thankful to have anyone, even if it's not him.

  “We can discuss this in the morning,” he declares ending the call without a goodbye. His voice calmly states, “Jovi.”

  “Hm?” I hum looking up from my phone.

  “I really need you to do your best to mingle. Smile big for the cameras. Show that even though....” the sentence starts to get caught in his throat. Briefly, he pauses letting his hand run across his bald head, down his beard, and down the side of his neck. “To show that even though your mother is missing that we are no less a family. Understand?”

  Same speech every year. It's not that I'm hardened to the situation, it's not that I don't miss her. It's just...I think you can love someone and miss them and still live your life. I don't think Mom would have wanted either of us living less of a life. She wasn't that selfish. I also think she'd be disappointed it's taken me this long to actually start my life.

  “Yes.”

  “And Jovi?”

  “Yes?”

  “You look beautiful,” he compliments softly. I offer him a wide smile which is when he returns to his bitter self. “I just wish you would wear a little less make up. Nadie knows how much I hate that stuff.”

  “Looks great in pictures,” I remind him.

  Rolling his eyes, he pulls up to the valet station. The two of us climb out of his SUV and are overwhelmed with swarms of flashes and demands for us to pose together.

  Wanna know what the headlines will say in the morning? 'Commissioner and Daughter Still Standing Strong After All These Years of Wife's Brutal Death.' Or maybe 'Car Crash Took Wife But Not Hope'. Some shit like that. That's what this charity event
does. Raises money to help those who have had loved ones lost in brutal accidents caused by reckless driving. Fun stuff huh? Eh. Typically brings out the Mayor and his snobby son. Only perk aside from the bacon wrapped scallops? There are some hot up and comers on the force every year...and every year one glance from my father sends them running the opposite direction from me.