Bad Seed_A Brother's Best Friend Romance

by Rye Hart

  “You done?” I asked.

  I was aware of the fact that he was staring down my shirt. I could see his reflection in my computer screen. He looked like a fucking idiot, but my cheeks still flushed. Almost like it felt nice to have him staring at me

  “Yep,” he said, as his eyes moved to the computer screen. “I’m done.”

  I gritted my teeth and shook my head.

  “Hank and I will be on the same floor as you and the band for the tour. I will be traveling behind in my truck and Hank will be on the bus with you guys.”

  “Seriously? Hank’s riding on the bus?” Drake asked.

  “He is.”

  “And you’re sure that beat up truck can keep up with us?”

  I drew in a deep breath as I closed my eyes.

  “If it can’t, I’ve got the addresses for all the hotels. I’ll survive off my GPS,” I said.

  “Fine. Suit yourself. But the party would be better if you were on the bus.”

  “No thanks. I don’t feel like experiencing your rendition of any other picturesque fairytales.”

  “Suit yourself,” he said, with a shrug.

  It was easy to tell myself he was just an asshole, but when he pushed away from me and walked back toward the coffee pot, I caught the outline of the flask pressed against his pocket. He was a man that was struggling. Dancing with his demons while trying to keep his head above water. I knew he had a heart, somewhere down deep. He was once a family man. He gave a free concert to a charity that was close to his heart. After meeting his sister, I now knew why. I saw his eyes light up when he looked at her. That sister of his was his world. He was single-handedly taking care of a ranch, a music career, and an autistic sister.

  Hell only knew the pressure he was under on a daily basis. Along with dealing with the loss of his wife and daughter, hell, that would drive any man to drinking.

  It was hard to be mad at him when I saw the heart of him shining through. All the pain he was experiencing and all the booze he was using to cover it up, and he still had a soul he allowed out. It was hard for me to hate a man like that. Especially when I was supposed to be helping him.

  I sighed and closed my eyes, resolving myself to work through the morning.

  There were meetings to plan and interviews to confirm. There were hotels to talk with and concert coordinators to double-check on. Drake and his band liked things a very specific way whenever they arrived on site They each had their own pre-show rituals that needed tending to, and I found that the concert coordinators were willing to bend over backwards for them.

  But the hardest thing to wrangle was the press. Four concerts in four different cities meant four different media escapades. Each wanted their own official press release from Drake Blackthorn himself, and it fell onto my shoulders to get those to them. Plus, there was figuring out how to get the tour bus cleaned down between cities and researching spots to gas up where the guys wouldn’t be bothered.

  There was so much that went into just four shows. I could only imagine what it took to get an entire tour on the books and situated.

  I expected Drake to go out and help Paul, but he didn’t. He bounced between rooms as I worked, not really sitting down or being of use. I had no idea what his issue was, but I was here to work.

  Once I had everything confirmed, I gave him the rundown.

  “Okay, I think I have everything confirmed,” I said.

  Drake grunted as he stood at the window, tipping up his flask to his lips.

  “Four cities, four concerts, four hotels. Four different press releases already sent out as well as backstage necessities confirmed. Gas stations have been vetted as safe spaces to fuel up the bus, cleaners in all four cities ready to clean it down, and concert times are all confirmed. I sent the itinerary to Landon and Stone, as well as all the confirmed times and addresses of places we will be. Is there anything I’m missing?”

  I looked up and waited for his input, but he stayed silent as his eyes gazing out the window.

  “Drake?” I asked. “Did you hear me?”

  But all he did was turn his body and walk out of the kitchen.

  Was he fucking kidding me? I tried not to grind my teeth as I slammed my laptop shut. Fine, I could take a hint. If he didn’t want to talk about work, then we didn’t have to talk about work. But anything that was out of place or not right when he got into the cities was on him.

  I heard his boots pounding up the staircase.

  I got up from the kitchen table and walked into the living room. Elsie was still sitting there, in her same position with the same book. Tammy was working on some sort of needlepoint as I came into the room, sitting on the opposite couch as I sighed.

  “Don’t worry. He gets easier to work with,” Tammy said.

  “Uh huh,” I said, with a huff.

  “Doesn’t seem like it now, but he warms up to you.”

  “Not what I’m concerned about,” I said.

  I could see Elsie eyeing me carefully from her book and noticed her body beginning to tense up. I didn’t know much about adults on the spectrum, but I knew when I was making someone uncomfortable. I averted my gaze and cleared my throat, trying to loosen up my body, so I didn’t make Elsie feel stressed.

  We had a good first encounter, and I didn’t want to ruin anything.

  “So, Tammy. Are you a live-in caretaker?” I asked.

  “I am, but Elsie and I don’t live here. Elsie’s got her own place, courtesy of her part-time job and some money set aside from her parents,” Tammy said.

  “Is it far from here?”

  “Just a couple of miles. It’s routine for Elsie to be here in the mornings during the week, so we come over and stay until lunch. Once in a while, we spend the night here.”

  “I work on the weekends,” Elsie said.

  “Do you enjoy it?” I asked.

  “I do. I work in the back at a bookstore. It’s quiet, and I don’t have to deal with people.”

  “That sounds like a very nice job.”

  I don’t know how you’re surviving my brother,” she said, suddenly.

  I bit back a giggle as a grin crossed my cheeks.

  “I read these books because of him,” Elsie said.

  “Oh really?” I asked. “Why is that?”

  “Drake works hard. But he’s not like most people I’ve encountered. I want to understand why.”

  I nodded and cast my gaze into my lap as Tammy studied my reaction.

  “Tammy, do you enjoy the ranch?” I asked.

  “I do. Though I haven’t let Drake rope me into doing anything around here. I’ve got my hands full with Elsie.”

  “I like letting the horses out,” Elsie said.

  “It’s always nice to watch them run free,” I said.

  “And the sunsets here are spectacular. Whenever I can get Elsie to stay, it’s my favorite part of this place,” Tammy said.

  “Well, maybe I could share it with you guys one night,” I said.

  The three of us sat there talking, and I found it to be therapeutic. Between my classes and my work, I didn’t have much time to socialize. In fact, I didn’t have time to socialize at all. I studied, I worked, and I turned in schoolwork online. That was the extent of the past three and a half years of my life. It was nice, talking with them. Elsie was refreshingly honest, which I figured was probably a part of her being on the spectrum. Tammy was laid back. Someone I could see myself getting to know if I had the time. She wasn’t high strung, and I could tell she cared about Elsie.

  And in Elsie’s own way, I could tell she cared about Tammy, too.

  But when Drake didn’t come back from downstairs, I left to go find him. It was nice to talk with everyone, but if I was no longer needed here, then there were things I had to do. I ventured up the stairs and walked down the hallway, dipping my head into rooms to see if I could find him.

  “Drake?” I asked. “You up here?”

  I heard a long sigh, and I followed it through the door it came
from. I walked into a room that was dark and dank, with clothes scattered about and the closet thrown open haphazardly. There were doors cracked open, revealing a private balcony at the opposite end of the room.

  And there he sat.

  With a beer tipped up to his lips.

  Navigating my way through the bomb that had gone off in his room, I crinkled my nose and made it to the balcony, then slipped out beside him to try and talk. But his eyes were glassy, and his stare was far off.

  I wondered how much alcohol he had already ingested just this morning.

  It was clear that I needed to work on a plan to get him clean. If I framed his sobriety in the right light, it would be an easy task. Tell him his sister depended on his income and that Paul’s job and the life of the ranch depended on his ability to keep doing what he was doing. It was clear to me that he didn’t feel he was worth anything, despite his fame and fortune.

  That was my goal for the day.

  “What?” Drake asked.

  “We’ve confirmed the details of your tour. Is there anything else you need from me?” I asked.

  His eyes turned up toward me as his breath fluttered up my nose. I could smell the beer and bourbon on his breath. I tried to keep my personal disgust at bay as I gritted my teeth, forcing a smile across my cheeks.

  Being alone with a drunk was always a vulnerable position to be in.

  “Nope,” he said, as his eyes raked down my legs. “That’ll be all.”

  “Then I’ll see you on Wednesday. At the record label.”

  “Yep.”

  “Call or email if you need me before then,” I said.

  “Sure.”

  “And try not to throw yourself off this balcony.”

  I watched his back straighten as he got to his feet, stumbling as he caught himself against the railing.

  “Go,” Drake said.

  “Not until you come inside and lay down,” I said.

  “Like you give a shit.”

  “Come on,” I said, as I stood by the door. “In to bed with you.”

  He tossed me a look before he stumbled through the door. He tripped on all the shit on his floor as I closed the balcony doors. I locked them tight as I heard him fall into bed, face planting straight into the pillow. The beer bottle tumbled from his hand, rolling across the floor as he groaned.

  I pulled the hair tie out of my hair and wrapped it around the doorknobs, trying to put whatever measures I could between his drunken ass and a fall from his balcony.

  “June 16th,” Drake said.

  “Yes, that’s today’s date. What about it?” I asked.

  “That was Ava’s birthday. Today would have been her sixth year birthday,” he said softly just before passing out.

  Suddenly his strange behavior today all made sense. I felt for him. I couldn’t imagine the pain of losing a child, and the last effect of something so tragic. This man was truly imprisoned by the memories of his past.

  CHAPTER 11

  Drake

  I slept on and off all through Monday and woke up to the sun blaring in my eyes. My head hurt, and my body was sore. The stale smell of beer permeated my room. I groaned as I pulled myself upright, planting my feet onto the floor so I could get my bearings. I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes to try and rid them of sleep while my head pounded.

  Fuck. I’d slept an entire day away.

  I got up from the bed and took a step forward, but my foot caught onto something. I went tumbling to the floor, my hand smashing into something.

  “Fuck!”

  I could feel the blood trickling into the carpet as my eyes focused on what the fuck I’d just fallen onto.

  A beer bottle. Fucking grand.

  Pulling myself into my bathroom, I cleaned off the wound. This would put me out of the farm work today, which was fine with me. I had that damn mini-tour starting tomorrow, and the last thing I wanted to do was spend my last fucking free day mucking out stalls. I’d pay Paul his fair share and leave it at that, resolving myself to a shower and some fucking coffee.

  I cleaned myself up and came out of the bathroom to find steam from the shower had filled up my room. I went over to the balcony doors to throw them open, but there was something holding them back.

  “What the hell?”

  I looked down and saw a ponytail holder wrapped around the doorknobs. I furrowed my brow as images of yesterday slowly bombarded my mind. Delia on the balcony. Cussing at her to go away. Her ordering me into bed.

  Fuck. She had ordered me to bed? I remembered telling her the significance of yesterday’s date. It was Ava’s birthday. I had completely forgotten about her birthday until yesterday evening, while Delia was busy working on the itinerary for the tour. That was the reason why I was piss drunk all night. I was trying so damn hard to forget.

  I threw on some clothes and pulled on my boots and went downstairs. I found my baseball cap and threw it onto my head, then dug around for some gauze. I got the bleeding slowed down, and taped it up so it wouldn’t bleed everywhere, and stuck the ponytail thing in my pocket.

  Then, I found a note from Paul on the fridge.

  Drake,

  Gone to town with an interested cattle rancher. Might have two more heifers coming to live with us. Took the hauler just in case.

  Paul

  Great. No one was here. I fucking slept through lunch, so Elsie and Tammy were gone. Paul probably thought I was a lazy ass fuck. I had Delia’s damn hair tie in my pocket. I couldn't work on the damn ranch because of my hand, and I was still hung over from last night’s pathetic drunken mess.

  What the hell was I supposed to do with my day?

  I pulled my flask from my pocket and unscrewed the top. I tossed it back, draining the rest of its contents before I filled it back up. The only thing I could think to do was return Delia’s hair tie. It was dangerous for me to see her, and I was sure she didn’t want to see me, but I just couldn’t stay away from her. Returning a rubber band was lame as fuck, but it was either that or drink myself stupid.

  So I plugged her address into my phone and took a walk.

  Soon, I’d figured out how the hell she got here so early in the mornings. She didn’t live that far away. Only a couple miles in the opposite direction of my sister’s.

  Thirty minutes later, I found myself on Delia’s porch. I noticed her porch light was on as the sun beat down on my back. I raised my hand to knock on her door. Three hard knocks and a kick with my boot resounded on the other side of the door, and I heard someone coming down the steps.

  I could’ve just left the damn hair tie in her mailbox. Or put it around her doorknob. I didn’t have to knock on her door and see her. I didn't have to bother her this way. But I wasn’t able to walk away. There was something deep down inside of me that wanted to see her. I wanted to see those sparkling eyes and those luscious lips and feel her warm skin radiating against mine.

  “Drake?”

  I whipped my head up and found her eyes, but not before I saw what she was wearing. She had on this short robe that was tightly wrapped around her. Light green and yellow, with her shining legs bare and her arms glistening with water. Her hair was damp, falling down her shoulders as water dripped down her neck.

  Holy fuck. This was a bad idea.

  “What are you doing here?” Delia asked.

  “You left his,” I said.

  I pulled her hair tie out of my pocket as her eyes dropped to my hand. She took it and nodded her head, slipping it effortlessly around her wrist. Her movements were so fluid. Graceful and petite, despite the fire I knew raged in her soul. She was just the right amount of sass and sexy that tugged at my cock. It made me want to pay attention as my eyes found hers again.

  We stared at one another for what seemed like ages before I lost control of my actions.

  I stepped forward and grabbed her face, crashing her lips against mine. She tasted divine, like wine and oranges and grapes. I slid my tongue along her lips, hoping to God she wouldn’t
push me away. I wanted to taste more of her.

  She didn’t pull away. So I sank myself into the kiss.

  Her lips parted, allowing me access as my cock grew against her bare legs. Her hands cupped mine before they slid up my arms. I could feel her feeling me. I could feel her fingertips curling into my muscles. I could taste how tentative her kiss was. How new all of this was to her. It stoked a fire behind my pelvis as my tongue raked across the roof of her mouth.

  She shivered at the motion, so I did it again as she leaned into me.

  I prayed that she would let me in so I could shut the door. Everything fell to the back of my mind. My fame. My fortune. The ranch and the flask in my back pocket. The reason I had walked here and how sweaty I must feel underneath her touch.

  I even forgot about all the people in this fucking town who recognized me.

  Until I heard my name.

  “Git it, Drake! Whoop whoop!”

  I heard clapping and hollering as the moment broke. I felt Delia jolt, like she had just woken up from another dream. Her hands raced to my chest, pressing me backwards as I stumbled onto her porch. Her eyes were fiery as they looked around her apartment complex, trying to figure how who the hell had made all that noise.

  Then she shut the door in my face.

  Fuck.

  Whoever the fuck had ruined that for us was gonna die today.

  I thought about knocking again, about pursuing her like I knew women enjoyed. but the sound of the deadbolt flipping closed was a definite no. So I headed back to the ranch.

  I didn’t see anyone in my path that looked to be staring, but I kept an eye out. I’d had a moment with Delia. A moment where she almost let me the fuck in. I didn’t know why I wanted to be let in, to assume the responsibility of being her first in anything. There was something about her fiery spirit that seemed familiar. There was a look in her eye that seemed almost kindred, and I wanted to figure out why.

  Plus, I wanted to taste her again. Because holy hell, she tasted good.

  I got back to the ranch as Paul was driving up. The hauler was full with two more heifers for the farm and I helped him unload them. I walked both of them into the pasture, feeling Paul standing next to me. I could feel his eyes on my hand as I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to hide my accident from him.