by C. Shell
I take in his glowing expression with drawn brows. This is new. I’ve never known Jimmie to be such a mean drunk before. “Stop being a dick. I don’t know what your problem is or why you’re so mad, but you need to get your head on straight.” I motion to the bottle of water sitting on the table in front of him. “Drink up, brother. You’re going to need your wits about you to dig yourself out of the hole you’ve dug.”
His jaw ticks in anger, but he has the smarts to keep his mouth shut. I storm out of the kitchen and wind my way through the living room and out to the backyard where I find Cammy curled up in a ball on one of the pool lounge chairs.
My heart aches for her as I take a seat beside her. She looks up at me, her face lined with exhaustion and sadness. “Hey Cammy,” I whisper, not wanting to startle her, “you ready to go home?”
She turns to lie on her side, facing me. “How is Jimmie?”
I sigh and rub a hand over my face. “He’s a little banged up and still acting like a mean dipshit, but nothing looked broken. If anything, he won’t look too pretty over the next week.”
I keep replaying the events that she told me over the phone and there’s one thing that keeps bothering me. “Cam, what sparked Jimmie to drink so much? It isn’t like him to drink so heavily, especially when Nate and Dex aren’t around to watch his back.”
She nods as if expecting my question. “Your father called right after we arrived. I don’t know what was said, but when Jimmie got off the phone, he was agitated. He soon put down the beer and turned to hard liquor. I tried getting him to slow down, but he wouldn’t listen.”
I’m surprised to hear that my dad called. Since the accident, he has been distant, or at least with me he has. I never thought that his weekly calls with Jimmie might still be going on. I push those thoughts to the back of my mind with every intention of visiting them at a later time.
I shift on the chair when the side gate creaks, loudly announcing that we have company. Glancing up, I watch as Nate and Dex stride across the paved walkway, each looking as if they just woke up with hair askew and eyes looking tired.
“Hey guys,” I say when they get within reach.
“Where is he?” Dex asks, his voice rough. His eyes land on me and my entire body tingles in response. If I thought smacking myself would kill my attraction for Dex, I would do it in a second.
The pain in my chest eases knowing he and Nate will help get Jimmie home where he can sleep off his stupidity. I can’t deal with him when he’s this drunk and out of control. I’ve only seen him this bad once before, and that was after their soccer team lost the state championship due to Jimmie missing the goal on the last free kick.
“He’s in the kitchen nursing a water bottle.” Before the guys can walk away, I feel the need to warn them. “He’s angry right now. I don’t understand what’s going on, but I think my dad might have done something that caused him to spiral out of control.”
“Typical,” Nate says, rolling his eyes. “Your dad is a piece of work.”
“He never disappoints in being a douchebag,” I agree with a groan.
“Can we go now?” Cammy asks, her tear streaked face paler than I’ve ever seen it.
My chest constricts, and I nod. “Of course.”
I shoot the guys a sidelong look and mouth, “Thank you.” Helping Cam to her feet, I guide her to the side gate the guys had used. I don’t want to go back through the house and risk running into Jimmie. I’ll give him a day to sleep off the liquor and get his head back on straight, then I plan on kicking his ass. His behavior toward Cammy tonight isn’t something I can easily forgive.
And then there’s the mysterious call from daddy dearest, a man who only looks out for number one. If Dad is reaching out to us, then it’s because he wants something. I learned that the hard way the last time he popped in for a visit. Everything with him has a price.
So, the big question is, what does he need now, and how much will his deceit cost us?
Chapter Nine
There is something satisfying about watching Jimmie hugging the toilet as if his life depends on it. He’s been at it all morning, throwing his guts up, and with every flush, my smile grows stronger. Karma is a righteous bitch.
“Would you like some runny eggs with a side of cottage cheese?” I ask him, sliding the plate of food under his nose for ample effect. He glares at the offending dish then up at me, his face scrunched up like a wounded puppy. Jimmie’s stomach makes an unfriendly grumble right before he dashes back to the bathroom.
I go back to enjoying my breakfast, smearing jam on my toast and thinking about the tongue lashing I’m going to give Jimmie once he feels a bit better. Talking with him is going to be tricky because if I come at him the wrong way he will close up tighter than a clam, and I won’t get the information I need.
Hearing the front door squeak open, I lean back in my seat and watch as Nate stalks through the house, making a beeline for the staircase. “Hey,” I call out to him, “Jimmie is still feeding the toilet. I made eggs and toast for breakfast. Jimmie wasn’t hungry, so we have lots of extra food if you’re hungry.”
“Sounds good,” Nate answers. Alternating his route, he joins me in the kitchen, sliding into the seat across from mine. Grabbing Jimmie’s plate, Nate starts slathering his eggs in hot sauce and coating his toast in jam, all the while stealing glances at me when he thinks I’m not looking.
I’m not good with silence, not even the comfortable kind. “What happened after Cammy and I left last night?”
“Nothing worth repeating,” he says around a mouthful of food. “He talked a lot of shit, passed out, and then we dumped his butt in bed.”
I nod, not expecting anything less. “Thanks for helping.”
His brows crinkle. “We’re family, Addy Bear. You don’t thank family for doing what’s needed. We might not always agree on things, but we will always protect each other.”
“You’re right,” I concede. I grab my black coffee and take a sip. My mind is running a mile a minute today. It’s hard to sit and relax with so many unanswered questions surrounding Jimmie’s behavior. “Did he say anything about my father calling?”
“He mumbled something about going to Texas and summertime. Not much of anything he said made sense. We tried coaxing answers out of him but only got bits and pieces of slurred words.”
Sitting forward I lean my elbows on the table. Nate continues to eat, oblivious to my inner turmoil. I’ve never been a patient person and waiting for Jimmie to spew whatever secret he’s keeping is eating at me. “Should we go upstairs and grill him now or wait for Dex?”
Nate takes a sip of my coffee, watching me closely. “Dex had to go drop something off for his mom. He’ll be here soon, then we can confront Jimmie as a united front.”
I nod numbly, feeling as if the weight of the world is crashing down on me. We chat about school, soccer, friendships, and everything in-between to pass the time. I tell him about Cammy and how upset she is with what happened. As of this morning, she is ignoring Jimmie’s calls and doesn’t want to see him anymore. Can’t say I blame her. Just when I’m about to lose my cool, Dex struts in the front door, looking calm, collected, and majorly hot.
Dex pops in the kitchen doorway wearing a button-down shirt, holey jeans that hang dangerously low on his narrow hips, and flip-flops. With a dusting of scruff on his face, he looks sexy and utterly beautiful. I blink past my emotions and point to the staircase.
“Now that the whole gang is here. Let’s go kick my brother’s ass.”
Dex’s mouth quirks as he leans down and steals the last bite of toast off my plate. “You sound a little mean, Jelly Bean.” He grins, teasing.
I can’t hold back my laugh. “Yeah, well I don’t like secrets, and I have a feeling my brother is keeping something big from me.”
“Then let’s get the show on the road,” Nate grumbles. Standing he takes the time to wash off our plates and put them in the dishwasher before coming around and offering me h
is hand. I take it, grinning at the fact that he bothered with the dishes, something my mother would swoon over.
Ascending the stairs two at a time, we knock heavily on Jimmie’s door before pushing it open and letting ourselves in. Jimmie’s head pops up from his pillow, and he blinks a few times before growling out an unwelcoming, “Yell at me later. My head still hurts.”
“Wakey, wakey,” I sing as I move across the room, yanking the curtains open, and spilling natural bright light all around. When Jimmie sits up, begging me to stop, his pillows become my next victim. Snatching them out from under him, I toss them over to Dex and take a seat at the end of the bed with my arms crossed over my chest.
Arching a challenging eyebrow at him, I do something I never thought myself capable of. I deceive my twin. “I called Dad. It took some convincing, but he told me about your conversation last night.” I can feel Nate and Dex’s eyes boring down on me. I don’t dare to look at them, knowing if I do, I will lose my nerve. “I can’t believe you. When were you planning on telling me? Does Mom know?”
The confident scowl slips from his face. He is guarding his reaction, probably trying to decipher how much I really know. Considering I know nothing, I fight to keep in character. I should feel sorry for duping him into telling me the truth, but I don’t. If there is anyone more stubborn than me, it's my twin. This might be my only way to get to the bottom of the problem before it’s too late to fix. Desperate times call for drastic measures.
Silence ensues, followed by Jimmie scoping out Nate and Dex’s expressions. They play dumb, telling him that I wouldn’t divulge anything, which leaves Jimmie and me at a standstill. We stare at each other as if we can see beyond the other’s mask. If only it were that easy.
“Tell them, Jimmie,” I shout pointing to the guys. “Tell them what Daddy wanted this time.”
Jimmie purses his lips, and I hold my breath praying that he doesn’t kick me out. After a long uncomfortable silence, his shoulders sag, and I know I’ve got him. “Mom doesn’t know yet, so promise me you won’t saying until I get a chance to talk with her.”
That sounds ominous. Not knowing what else to do, I answer with a shaky, “Okay.”
Dex and Nate take a seat on the bed, each of us surrounding Jimmie as we ready ourselves for his confession. Except, that’s not we get. At least not right away. “Can you speak to Cammy for me? She still isn’t taking my calls.”
Nate blows out a frustrated breath. “Man, you screwed that up. I don’t know many girls who would easily forgive after the names you called her. The scene you caused was bad enough. Luckily, Jerald is a cool guy and isn’t holding a grudge.”
We’re all getting sidetracked. Cammy is important, but that is not why I came in here and lied through my teeth. I fidget with the edge of the comforter before looking up and catching Jimmie’s gaze. “And Dad?” I prompt. “Explain that please.”
Jimmie clears his throat and moves closer to the headboard, using it to sit taller. If he thinks appearing bigger is going to stop me from throttling him, he’s in for a rude awakening. “You know how Dad can be,” Jimmie coughs out. “He’s worried about his business. Cindy handled a big chunk of the business for him. He needs me now that she is stuck on bedrest.” He pauses and scratches his head as though picking his words carefully. I am reeling at the mention that I have a step-brat on the way. The marriage is set for summer break, is that still on?
Jimmie is oblivious to the frustration whipping through me and keeps going. “I know Mom and coach will be upset about me missing soccer camp, but I don’t see how I can turn him down. Dad has never asked anything from me before, and it’s only for the summer. I will be back in Florida for my senior year, and will work hard to make sure the college scouts don’t forget about me.”
I blink, not even knowing where to start with the bag of bullshit he just threw out. I turn to Nate and Dex for help, because words are escaping me as quick as they come. With their hands fisted, the guys look ready to blow. Looks like I’m on my own with this one.
“You can’t throw away soccer or your scholarship for a chance to bond with David,” I state dryly. “He’s gone seventeen years without needing us by his side; I think he will manage this summer just fine without you.”
A hand lands on my shoulder and I turn to find that Dex slipping in behind me. He begins massaging me, working out the tension that has a headache forming. I don’t say anything, but I do lean into his touch.
Jimmie forces a tight smile. “Why do you always have to call him David when you get angry?”
“Because he is a sorry excuse for a father,” I retort without having to give it much thought. I hate the sad look in his eyes. My words might be harsh, but it’s all true. He just doesn’t want to see it. Jimmie is still that little boy wanting his father’s approval. David killed those illusions for me during his last visit when he tried feeding me food I was deathly allergic to, and then never bothered to visit after my attack.
“Maybe if you got off your high pedestal and stopped looking down on him you would see that he is trying to be a better father. Stop judging him all the time and just give him a chance.”
“Stop being a prick, Jimmie,” Nate interrupts. “You don’t need to talk to Addy that way.” Jimmie’s eyes narrow as they land on his friend.
I bristle. I appreciate Nate’s concern, but I got this. “Are you fucking serious, right now?” Dex has both hands on me, and they keep rubbing, but I’m too pissed to enjoy the massage anymore. This entire conversation is annoying the hell out of me.
“You could always go with me,” Jimmie offers, his voice softer than before. “I’m sure Cindy would like the help as well. Dad says she can’t do much until after her third trimester and with the wedding around the corner she has a lot on her plate.”
Well, that answered my question about the pending nuptials. “Just what the world needs. Another forgotten Lohan child. Maybe he’ll actually stay around and watch as this one grows up,” I sneer.
Jimmie stands from the bed, his body flushed and vibrating with anger. Dex stops rubbing and pulls me back against him as if to protect me. It’s a sweet gesture, but not needed. Jimmie might huff and storm around, but he would never hurt me. Not in a physical way at least
His eyes widen briefly before narrowing on me. “We’re going to have to agree to disagree. I already told Dad I was coming, and I don’t renege on my commitments.”
“Coach is going to blow a gasket,” Nate exclaims, his voice hard. “Scouts don’t come around often. You’re putting a lot on the line. Why can’t you wait until after high school to go spend some time with him?”
“Because he needs me now,” Jimmie yells. “He’s got a kid on the way, and a wife stuck on bedrest. His business is thriving and if he doesn’t get someone he can trust to help him he might lose it all.”
I rub at my throbbing temple. Something isn’t adding up. Glancing at Dex and Nate, I can tell they’re thinking the same thing. David owns a profitable, small investment company. Jimmie has no business experience, and he’s horrible with money, so why the push to bring him all the way to Texas to work with David? You would think a father would be encouraging his only son to stay and continue pushing for the scholarship he’s been working the last three years for.
Something smells fishy.
My heart hurts for Jimmie. He so badly wants this, and not for himself, but for a man who loves himself and his mistress more than he loved us. Knots tighten in my stomach, and I resign myself to be the bad guy. I will fight to keep my brother with me, but I won’t do it against Jimmie. I’m going to have to bring down my father. In a movie, this is the part where you would hear the music turn dark and ominous.
Shaking my head, I give my brother a tight smile. “Okay, Jimmie. You do what you need to do. I won’t say anything to Mom right now, but you need to tell her sooner than later.”
Nate turns and stares at me, his eyebrows bouncing up in surprise. He doesn’t understand why I’m dropping th
e fight, but he will. I give an I’ll-tell-you-later look and start for the door. Nate and Dex stay and talk with Jimmie while I head downstairs, needing a moment to think on my next move.
I don’t know enough about my father to identify his weaknesses or why he’s insisting on Jimmie coming to Texas. It’s so random. Not fifteen minutes later Nate and Dex join me on the couch, their faces scrunched in concern. Dex is the first to speak. “Are you really okay with him leaving?
“Hell no!” I’m kind of offended. I thought they knew me better than that.
“Now it’s your turn to explain,” Nate says.
“I need your help.” I glance between them, letting them know that I’m talking to both of them. “Jimmie’s not going to turn his back on David, and he’s too stubborn to admit when he’s wrong. I can’t pinpoint what, but something about this trip feels off. I need your help in figuring out what my dad is up to so that I can put a stop to it.”
The guys share a look and then Dex is smirking. “Of course, we’ll help. It just so happens that we have some information about David that I think you will find interesting. It’s not enough to keep Jimmie home, but it’s a good place to start.”
A chill creeps up my spine at the thought that they’ve already been digging up dirt on my dad, but I shake it off. We don’t have time for me to get sidetracked and go on a rant about boundaries. It’s not as if they would listen to me anyways.
Slapping the table for theatrics, I announce in my most serious tone, “Let’s get started. I have a brother to save.”
Chapter Ten
Taking down the bad guy isn’t as fun or exciting as they make it look in the movies. We’ve spent the last two weeks up to our necks in research. Nate has a hunch that my dad is funneling the money he steals into offshore accounts, but we have no proof to back that up.
Jimmie has been unusually sullen, but that could be because Cammy still won’t talk to him. He keeps trying to get me to talk to her on his behalf, but that’s a line I won’t cross. I never once asked him to take my side when the shit hit the fan between Dex and me, and I find it rude that he would put me in the middle. Besides, I’ve got bigger fish to fry right now.