Dammit.
Why didn’t I just fucking tell her?
Then again, she should already have figured it out. I mean, I brought her to my house. I cuddled with her in my bed. I worshiped every part of her body. I made love to her … without a rubber. She’s got to know.
I fell hard. Flat on my face. And there’s no walking away from this for me. I’ll be lucky if I can fucking crawl away. A broken wreck who just got pulverized. Demolished by my own half-fucking-brother. My heart shattered into a billion fucking pieces. And I don’t think I’ll be alright again. Ever.
I grab an El Tequileno from the bar and take a sip straight out of the bottle, while I fall onto one of the deck chairs. After emptying the bottle, the pain is numbed just a little. I pull out my phone and call Mel.
It’s probably not a good idea. I’m semi-drunk.
“Hi,” her voice sounds excited, without any hint of the betrayal that’s killing me.
“Do … did … you love me?” I know drunk dialing is never a good idea but when you’re completely broken you have nothing to lose. “Even a little?” Her chuckle is killing me. “Or do you love my brother more?” There’s a moment of silence.
“Your brother?” she asks hesitantly, almost shocked. “Eh … of course I love the little guy.” I’m going to throw up. Little guy … the douche is bigger than me.
I roll off the chair and fall toward the nearest pot plant. I barely make it before I wretch and heave. And the tequila that was in my stomach isn’t anymore. I put the phone against my ear.
“Are you drunk?” she asks in a worried voice. She should not feign worry. Not on my behalf. I know the truth now.
“Maybe.” My slurring voice gives me away. I take another bottle, this time a Johnnie, and walk back to my chair and remove the lid with my mouth.
“So, how’s Rome?” she starts to chit-chat. How can she be so chirpy while I’m dying inside? I need her to feel the pain I’m feeling. I want her to hurt as much as I’m hurting.
I gave her everything … my body, my heart, my soul – and she kicked me in the teeth and left me bleeding. Now I want her to choke on it.
“It’s -” a nightmare, “- nice.” I swallow a mouthful of Walker Blue. “I’m in this little pub right now.” I lie.
“Oh,” much less chirpy. “I’m on my way to the club with Alejandro. We’ve reached our first milestone with our puppies and the whole class is going to celebrate.” She twists the knife stuck in my heart. Why him? It makes it so much worse.
“I have to go. Met some people and they’re waiting for me.” I continue the lie.
“Okay.” She sounds wounded too. “I miss you,” she whispers. Her voice and words cut through me like a warm hot blade through butter. Tears sting my eyes.
“Yeah. Bye.” That’s all I can manage to get out with the lump in my throat. I curl myself up on the deck chair and close my eyes.
There’s a knock on the door. When I open my eyes, it’s dark.
“Room service,” a woman says. It must be dinner. We have a set order that delivers food to the whole team every night. I bought this penthouse, but the rest of the building belongs to the Reaper team. A safe and private place for the team to stay in while we’re here. We have the same setup in every city we race in. Makes things much simpler.
I swaddle to the door with stiff legs even though I’m not hungry. On my way to the door my phone rings. It’s Mel.
For a second I can’t draw a breath. Does she want to rub things in my face? What are they doing right now? Celebrating at the club. Or did they go home to continue their backstabbing? The thought make me want to vomit again.
I open the door for the woman delivering my food. She must be in her late thirties, a plumb figure with dark hair and even darker eyes. A huge smile crosses her face. Then the idea hits me. It’s childish, pitiful, and selfish.
But I do it anyway.
I ask the lady to answer my phone, putting it on speaker. She seems surprised.
“Hello,” her voice is low with a strong accent. It’s perfect. I hear a sharp gasp on the other side. There’s a pause and I swear I can hear her breathing. Fast. “Hello, can I help you?” the woman says again. The phone goes dead.
I feel like shit. But she made her choice.
I take back my phone and tell the lady to give the food to someone who needs it. I’m too sick to eat.
“Hey, darling,” Chloe appears just as I am about to close the door. Fuck. She’s the last person I’m in the mood for.
“What do you want?” I grump. She puts a hand on each of my arms and glares at me with what I suppose is her flirty face. But she just looks dumb.
“I just wanted to see if you’re alright?” she pouts her red lips. “You know … since your girlfriend cheated and everything.” She’s the one who sent me the photo. Said one of her friends saw the couple kissing and took the picture.
She peeps around me.
“Wow!” she exclaims and pushes her way in. “I’ve never been up here before. It’s beautiful.” I roll my eyes. “Much better than the hotel I’m staying in.” I’m not taking the hint.
“Can I take some pictures?”
“Whatever. Just get done and get the fuck out. I’m tired.” I drop my phone on the table and flee into the bathroom. I pee sitting down like the pussy I am. Getting back at her makes me feel even worse.
I splash some water over my face and stare at the man in the mirror. I was so stupid. I should have seen the similarities. He looks a lot like me. Or rather, I look a lot like him. But he has my father’s eyes. It alone was a dead giveaway. Which I missed.
I go back to my chair and my bottle Johnnie. Chloe is snapping some pictures with her phone on the far side of the terrace. She comes to sit next to me.
“Right, if you’re done … leave.” I point to the door.
“Can’t I stay for a drink?” She pleads with a pouting blood-red mouth. The girl is pretty enough. But she’s as cold as ice. You can see the crazy in her eyes.
“No,” I say sternly.
“I can help you feel better.” She grabs my leg, way higher than what’s appropriate. My dick doesn’t even twitch. Poor thing is as dead as my heart. “Let me stay here with you.” She’s working on my nerves.
“Fuck off Chloe!” She stomps out and slams the door. Good fucking riddance. Why is she here in the first place? Fuck.
This time I’m not fast enough and barf all over my clothes. I take them off and throw them on the ground, sitting down again in nothing but my briefs. The cool air on my naked body is comforting – at least I can still feel something.
I slowly down my sorrows in the bottle, just laying with closed eyes under the night sky, while trying not to think too much. It’s the first time I get drunk without any of the boys around to look out for me. Luckily I’m not actually in the pub I lied about or this could have turned into a disaster.