by Neal, Xavier
“Yeah, but then I wouldn't have a good excuse for being late to work.”
“You never have a good fucking excuse.”
I shrug before I toss my pillows around finding it resting underneath.
Bastard...Sleeping in my bed without me.
“Where the fuck were you last night?”
“You want her name or address?” My sarcasm causes his jaw to tick.
He's not in the mood for my bullshit, but if we're talking about not being in the mood, I'm not in it for his. A little hungover here.
Madden folds his arms across his chest. “That shit's not funny Triple D.”
“Nothing’s funny to you anymore, Mad Man.” With a shake of my head I slide my phone in my back pocket. “You're not the only one who lost family. You’re not the only one who lost a fucking brother. With all due respect, we're all entitled to cope, even if it's not the same way you do.”
He doesn't hesitate to call me out on my bullshit. “You call putting back a bottle a night and fucking chicks like you're in the Slut Olympics, coping?”
“Better than riding my brothers into the ground with work while turning my dick into a rusted tool,” I counter.
I expect him to break down and yell. Jump down my throat and scream until I listen yet he simply says, “Do whatever the fuck you need to do to deal with this shit, but stop leaving your fucking phone at home.” My mouth twitches to open and he continues, “The shit with The Devil isn't over. I'm not prepared to lose another fucking brother because he couldn't get his dick scratched at home where I knew he was fucking safe, so I'm gonna tell you one last fucking time. Come. Home. At. Night.”
“Seriously?” I snap. “You don't get to dictate that shit! It might have worked with Merrick-”
He points a finger at me. “Don't.”
My mouth shuts.
Fuck. Did I forget to mention he's basically put a ban on using our dead baby brother's name? And our cousin’s? I don't fucking know if he thinks it's gonna make the pain of them being gone hurt any more than it already does or what. I hate to be the one to break it to him. It can't possibly hurt any more than it already does.
“Madden,” Knox’s voice comes from over his shoulder.
Both of our attention turns to her.
“We've um...we've got a situation downstairs.” The expression on her face lets me know it's one that should have us all worried.
Knox isn't your run of the mill chick. She's a McCoy. Not much scares or worries her, us aside. She has a pair of nuts as strong as the rest of us for the bullshit we endure, so if she looks scared there's a damn fucking good reason.
Madden quickly moves past her with me right behind him. The moment we hit the shop on the bottom floor, it's obvious what has Knox rattled.
“Oh look, the cheerleader ran to get the captain of this piece of shit shop,” one of the police officers says, pulling his sunglasses off his face.
Fucking cops. So many are crooked there's very little reason to believe any exist to actually protect and serve the community.
Madden folds his arms across his chest once more. This time, I follow the action and stand beside him.
I'm the second oldest. I'm the one shit falls on when it rolls off of Madden. Believe it or not I'm the most responsible of Triple D.
Unimpressed by their presence, I ask, “Can we help you?”
The other cop, who reminds me of Seth Rogen with less of the charm, starts to point. “Everything in this shop legal?”
Without waiting for Madden to speak I announce, “We run a legit business.”
Sunglasses leans against the wall. “Can you prove that?”
Destin speaks, “Every day that ends in y.”
“And all these parts?” Sunglasses chomps on his gum. “These are 'legit' too?”
“Every. Single. One.” I assure. “Now, is there a service you were looking for?”
“Watch your tone,” the Seth Rogen look alike snaps. “You're speaking to an officer of the law.”
“No he's not,” Daniel mouths off from under the hood of a Ferrari.
Yeah. That's Daniel. Iron balls and brainless.
Stepping to the side he wipes the grease off his hands with a rag. “He's talking to a puppet of The Devil.”
Sunglasses nods. “One puppet would recognize another.”
“We don't do shit for The Devil anymore,” Madden speaks for the first time. “And just so we're all on the same fucking page, you can give him a message, I'm coming for him....”
“You sound a little bitter McCoy,” the curly hair cop says sliding his hands in his pocket. “Hell, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were pissed like it was you who was being watched by IA.”
So the truth comes to light. They're pissed off because instead of gliding under the radar like all of The Devil's cops always have, they're being watched.
“Someone sold out a bunch of us to IA,” Sunglasses growls. “We've got reason to believe it was a McCoy.”
“We don't really like red and blues,” Daniel’s sneer makes me and Destin chuckle.
“Obviously,” I add.
“So why would we walk into a place surrounded by them to snitch out you rats?” Daniel says joining my side. “That doesn't sound very bright.”
Destin moves so he's standing next to Daniel. “That doesn't sound very safe.”
A McCoy wall. It rarely happens and when it does it's never a good thing. Hell, kind of like having all of us in the same room outside of a party. It usually means something bad is about to come.
“Well someone is selling out names that only you fuckers could have,” curly hair growls. “And we don't appreciate it.”
“Thems the breaks,” Daniel smugly replies.
Curly head makes a motion for my brother, “You smart mouth fuck up I swear-”
“One hand.” I interrupt immediately. “One hand on my brother and I'll drop you where you stand.”
He stops. “Did you just threaten a cop?”
Casually I look around Madden at Knox. “Would you call that a threat, Knox?”
“More like a promise,” she corrects.
“A guar-an-fucking-tee,” Daniel backs me.
Like the punk bitch he is, the cop shuts his mouth.
Sunglasses surrenders his hands. “Before we leave, we just wanna express our condolences, Madden.” The words twitch his fist as much as they do mine. “I mean, it's gotta be tough to keep burying McCoys six feet under.”
“Either make an arrest or get the fuck out,” Destin growls.
Pleased, by the reaction Sunglasses puts them back on his face. “Keep your head up and eyes open McCoys. The Devil's not done with you yet.”
At that he uses his arm to brush the shelf beside him knocking tools, paperwork, and oils to the ground. Instantly I twitch to lunge forward when Madden places a hand on my bicep to stop me.
With a chuckle Sunglasses backs up slowly. “Oops.”
The Seth Rogen doppelganger follows in the dickhead's footsteps by smashing in the tail light of the Ferrari Daniel was working on. “Whoopsie.”
We watch as the two of them head away from the building chuckling to themselves. Once they've pulled away in their cop car, Daniel shouts, “Fuck!” He tosses his arms in the air. “That's gonna fucking cost us! Time and money!”
Knox sighs, “I'll cancel my plans for the day and suit up. I can handle that while you focus on what's under the hood.”
“But it's your day off,” Daniel points out. “Didn't you have waves to eat or sun to slurp up.”
“Ugh,” she mumbles. “Shut up.”
He rolls his eyes and walks away towards the car that was damaged, still cussing under his breath. Destin strolls off back towards the office, most likely to call the owner about the unexpected damage.
Computer genius and the best customer service manners out of all of us. I'm not worried about him finding a nice way to lie about what happened.
Knox turns to head upstairs but n
ot before Madden gives her a nod of appreciation for her sacrifice. She accepts that as being enough and exits, leaving us standing alone.
He quietly growls, “That's why I want you to come home at night.” His eyes lower to me. “Do you get it now?”
I don't answer.
“This is fucking war, Triple D. This shit doesn't stop until someone at the top of the pyramid is dead. I'd rather it be him than me,” he states coldly. “Are we fucking clear?”
Without a word spoken, I nod.
He grunts and storms away to clean up the mess that was created by Sunglasses.
My life has become a war zone. Saddest thing is....we're losing. We're losing left and right. We used to work for The Devil, a king pen with his hands in so many pockets, you'd have a better chance at hitting one of those jackpots in Vegas for millions of dollars than the likeliness of him being caught. We used to move cars, money, and drugs mainly. Occasionally weapons. Not dealers, just movers. Getting that shit from one place to another in a quick fashion. Without us, he's suffering moving the weight he used to and without him we're no longer bringing in millions. More importantly, we're no longer the complete family we once were. For that he'll have to pay the only way that's right. With his fucking life.
Drew
“I will see your blonde little minx from last night, raise you two, and add on the Thursday morning usual, forty two minutes after they left.” Daniel points his glass at me. “Now that's the McCoy way.”
Shaking my head, I laugh. “Middle Man, your dick's gonna fall off.”
“I always EA bro,” he assures.
“From excessive use.”
“Hey, my dick needs to nut up or shut up, ya feel me?” Daniel laughs and shoots back the last of his drink. “I am the master of this dick.”
“Yeah, yell that a little louder and watch girls flock,” Destin sighs now shaking his head. “Seriously, can you hear yourself?”
“He's in fucking surround sound,” I comment, pushing my glass away from me. “How can he not hear himself?”
Destin follows my action. “How do we not get kicked out of this place?”
“Mickey's is home away from home,” Daniel asserts. Slamming his empty glass down he states loudly, “And Mickey's loves fucking McCoys!”
Azura, the usual bartender appears in front of us, the bottle of SoCo already in her possession. “Who doesn't love the McCoys?”
“Exactly!” Daniel agrees.
She giggles at his over enthusiastic body movements.
He put back four shots when we got here before we started downing mixed drinks. Apparently the shit that went down with the crooked cops hit him a little harder than he wanted to admit out loud. That's the thing with Middle Man. He doesn't like to talk about shit. He’d rather drink away the pain and then return to having a good time. Like just enough liquor completely washes away whatever pissed him off and fun Triple D returns. He's kind of simple. And yeah...I know. It's kind of sad.
I watch the slightly nerdy mocha colored woman fill my glass. Feeling a little feisty myself, I challenge, “Can you even tell the difference between us?”
“Of course.”
“You do know we're identical, right?” Destin adds as she fills the rest of my glass with Sprite.
Don't judge. I'm looking to get just enough buzz to make it back home with something soft and easy under my arm, not forget where I am. Madden's right. I need to bring my ass home no matter how much I hate being there because it's so fucking obvious what's missing.
“Like on paper. Like doctors thought we were photocopied in the womb type of shit,” Destin continues.
We're all in jeans and black t-shirts tonight too. That wasn't on purpose. It's all I had that was clean. Now in school...that was a different story. Daniel and I may or may not have had Destin let down clingy girls nicely for us. Yeah. I told you. We were trouble. Don't try to correct me. I'm less trouble now thank you very much.
Azura fills his glass up next, her glasses slightly falling down her nose. When she's finished she looks up and points to me. “Drew. His voice is slightly lower than both of yours. He also rarely wide smiles to where he shows all his teeth. My guess is because of the chipped tooth towards the back you can only see when he really laughs.”
Chipped it on my first motorcycle ride. It's just a little piece. Most people never notice.
“Daniel.” She points to the other end. “Has an eyebrow ring. He's also left handed and tends to lean to the side no matter what he's doing.” Without breaking eye contact, she finishes with, “And you...Destin...have toffee colored eyes. When you smile, it's always crooked. More hidden and softer than your brothers. You also have a tongue ring.”
You get the feeling she knows us a little too well for comfort?
“You McCoys think no one can tell you apart, but the truth is no matter how well you blend together at first glance, you're very different.” She finally breaks eye contact from Destin and looks at Daniel. “You want some Captain?”
“You know me so well.”
She smirks and turns to grab the bottle.
“However, I am not left handed.”
I lean forward to look down at him. “Yes you are motherfucker. Do you know how hard that shit was to learn?”
Pretending to be Daniel is definitely the most complicated.
“I'm good with both my hands.” He makes jerk off motions with each of them until Destin and I erupt into laughter.
Destin mumbles, “You're a fucking moron...”
“Yeah, yeah,” he brushes him as Azura fills up his glass. “Big talk coming from someone who pierced their tongue. That was some moronic shit.”
Destin rolls the jewelry around. “At least mine serves a purpose.”
“To add unnecessary sound effects to you eating a sandwich?” I joke lifting my glass. “I'm pretty sure we could do without that bullshit.”
Destin lifts his eyebrows. “A tongue ring in the bedroom is self-explanatory, such is a cock ring-”
“Guilty.”
“Also moronic.” Daniel points at me. “Who willingly lets someone put a needle like that near their dick?”
Quickly I argue, “Who lets someone put one that close to their fucking eye?”
“I'd rather lose an eye than paralyze my cock.” He gives us an over exaggerated shudder. “In fact, excuse me while I go insure it still works.”
Destin and I raise our glasses at him as he wanders off.
“He's an idiot,” Destin sighs before having a sip of his drink.
“Definitely.”
There's only a brief pause before Daniel yells, “Triple D, get your asses over here!”
I could've told you that was coming.
Turning around, I spot him posted up at a table with three blondes, his arm already draped around one.
It's how he calls dibs without having to say it.
“That was quick,” Destin mumbles following me over.
“Oh my God,” one of the other girls squeaks. “It's really you! It's really Triple D!”
Daniel wiggles his eyebrows. “Live in the flesh baby.”
My body parks next to the one who's biting her bottom lip, a slightly inebriated glaze already in her green eyes.
A walk in the park. All it takes is the McCoy name to make panties drop.
“Drew McCoy,” I announce.
“Candice,” she coos back. With a giggle she leans towards me, the shot of her tits now perfect. “Is it true what they say about McCoys?”
See.
I wet my lips. “Depends.”
“On?”
“On what you're asking.” Having a small sip of my drink I reply, “Because you better fucking believe we finish first in the streets and last in the sheets.”
Excited, she lifts her eyebrows. “Buy me a drink?”
I offer her mine. “Take this one.”
“What is it?'
“Already bought.”
She smiles and has a sip.
Do I enjoy being a dick? Fine. You caught me. Sometimes. But the other thing that comes with the McCoy name is the expected McCoy attitude. Apparently chicks dig dick in the bed and out. Is it always fun to live up to what the world expects you to be? What do you think?