Unsocial
By Nicole Dykes
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Epilogue
Letter from the Author:
Special Thanks To:
Prologue
Dylan
Joy rolls her perfect, naked body off mine after riding me for the last thirty minutes. She has a satisfied grin plastered across her face and says in an equally satisfied voice, “Wow, Dylan, that was so worth the wait.”
Now’s when I should be feeling pretty smug. In hindsight, the decision to fuck her was probably a colossal mistake, but what’s done is done. Now I need to figure out how to get the hell out of here with as little drama as possible.
You see, Joy works as a receptionist at my restoration and repair shop, and I’ve just broken one of many of my hookup rules, this being my number one rule: do not fuck anyone from work. I don’t need a lawsuit, and I know I have to handle this delicately. I’m not interested in being with her other than this one time. Just another of my rules: never fuck them twice.
Now I have to defend my stupidity here before you start handing down judgment. I’ve just had the day from hell, which started with a new employee fucking up the color of paint on a ‘68 Camaro. Shit just progressed to being bitched out by a snobby asshole who had sent his car up from Dallas for restoration. Apparently it wasn’t what he had imagined.
Instead of arguing with him, knowing that I had taken every note he had told me and that car was perfect, I told him the guys would redo it at no cost to him. Fortunately, this type of thing rarely happens in our shop. We have an impeccable reputation.
To top off my day, one of my best detailers quit because he got into it for the hundredth time with one of the mechanics. Why they were even around each other I have no idea; we have a fucking huge garage.
So, as I was heading out after work badly in need of a drink and a hot, warm body to end this day on a high note, Joy decided to make things easier. She knew I had had a bad day and gave me her sexiest smile. She hadn’t been shy with her flirting from day one. When she asked me if I wanted to get a drink, it became a done deal. I knew I shouldn’t have, but she was sexy, and I wanted an escape from the clusterfuck my day had been. So, like a fucking idiot I said yes, and now here we are in her tiny apartment and me trying to figure out an escape route.
I get up to get rid of the condom. Yes, another rule, and I’ll never be too liquored up and stupid enough to break this one. Now I need to pick up my shit and get the hell out of here. Next to her bed, I see my phone flashing letting me know I have a text message. I can work with this; I’ve used this exit strategy countless times. I notice I have several missed calls from Jackson. He’s my roommate and business partner, and always my best wingman whether he knows it or not, and right now he’s going to be flying me out of here.
Joy climbs behind me and starts kissing my neck. “Wanna go for round two?”
I stare at my phone wondering why there are so many phone calls from Jax. He rarely calls me since we live and work together. I’m distracted and totally uninterested when I say, “Uh, sorry I really can’t. I need to leave.”
“Why? You could stay the night, and we could go into work together tomorrow. Easy since we’re going to the same place.” Oh, hell no. And what the fuck up is with her voice? I swear it wasn’t that whiny before.
“Jackson’s been calling, and I need to see what’s up.”
She’s nodding like she understands, but disappointment is in her eyes. It’s a look I’ve seen on all the chicks I’ve banged as I’m walking out. I don’t consider myself so much of an asshole since I make sure they’re satisfied. That’s the nice guy in me. According to another rule, I don’t hang out for the sun to rise. “Just call him and see what’s up.”
I continue dressing. “Nope, I’ve got to get going. He may need me at the shop.”
She’s sitting on the bed, and I can practically see the wheels turning in her head, “Dylan is this something you and Jax have worked out for you to get out of a one-night stand? I’m not stupid; I know your reputation.” Then why the fuck are you wondering what I’m doing? Of course, I can’t say this. Goddamn, tequila.
Now I have to try to make her feel better without leading her on, “I swear, Jax has called me several times, and he never does that. I need to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She stands up completely naked and wraps her arms around my neck, pressing her overly large, fake tits against my chest. Right before her lips touch mine I turn my head, and they land on my jaw. I don’t kiss, and I guess she hasn’t picked up on that fact. It’s too personal and gives off the wrong impression. “Yes, you will.” I think she tried to purr. Was that supposed to be sexy?
Shit! I’ve got my out for tonight but have no clue what the hell I’ll be dealing with tomorrow. If this goes south, Jax will kick my ass. I decide to wait until I get home to talk to Jax, just to get the hell out.
When I walk into our living room, Jax is propped in the corner of our sectional with his laptop. “Bout time you got home. Did you get my messages?”
“Yeah, I was busy. What’s up?” He shoots me a questioning look I choose to ignore. I’m not bringing up tonight’s stupidity unless it’s necessary.
“You have a message on the landline phone from the Overland Park Police Department.”
“What the fuck? Did they say what they wanted?”
He shakes his head, “No just left a number. It’s still on the machine. You have a warrant or something?” Funny guy.
“Fuck you, I haven’t been in Kansas for three years.”
He shrugs and goes back to whatever the hell he’s doing on his laptop. Jackson is the numbers guy in our business. I’m the people guy. We work like the well-oiled machines we trick out for our extremely rich clients that in turn make sure we’re rich. Win, win. Jax is a mountain with tattoos and is intimidating as hell. I’m big with tattoos, but my awesome looks bring in customers not to mention plenty of pussy. Conceited, I know.
I deal with the customer relations side of the business because Jackson has zero tolerance for bullshit, and crazy as it seems; I feed off the bullshit. Luckily we’ve got some seriously wicked mechanics and body restoration specialists making our garage the most successful in Oklahoma. We’ve become quite fucking wealthy in the last few years.
I go to the kitchen and grab up our landline to get the number; then I head to my room. I dial in the 913 phone number and wonder what the actual fuck Overland Park Police Department wants from me. “Overland Park Police Department. How may I direct your call?”
“My name is Dylan Monroe. I have a message to call Detective Morrison.”
“Hold please.”
A gruff voice answers, “This is Detective Morrison.”
“Yeah, this is Dylan Monroe. I got a message that you called.”
“Yes. I’m very sorry to tell you this, especially over the phone, but your father, Daniel and his wife, Sylvia, were involved in an accident this afternoon.”
What the hell! “Are they okay?”
“I’m sorry, but they were both pronounced dead at the scene.”
I have to sit down on my bed to stop the room from spinning and shake it off long enough to ask about my next question. “Um, what about my brothers and sisters? Are they okay?”
“The youngest, Gabrielle, was in the crash, but there were no physical injuries. The other three were not in the vehicle.”
I let out a small breath of relief that my siblings are okay. “Where are they?”
“Right now they are in the care of social services, but that’s temporary, and we were hoping you can come and get them right away.”
My dad and his wife Sylvia were both only children and their parents were both long gone. I’m the only family the kids have left. “Of course, I live in Oklahoma City, but I’ll find a flight or drive there, whichever is quicker.” He gives me the contact information for social services to call when I get into town. I need to talk to Jax and get on the road.
When Jax sees me coming into the living room, he notices right away that something is off. “What happened?”
“My dad and Sylvia are dead.”
“Shit, man. I’m sorry. What happened?”
“Car wreck.”
“Are the kids okay?”
“Yeah, I have to get to them.” I take a seat on a bar stool at the kitchen island that separates our living room to discuss my leaving for a few days. I know we have some new clients coming in.
Jackson moves back to the couch and picks up his laptop. After a minute he looks over at me, “No flights until tomorrow. We driving?”
I stand up. “Yeah, but someone has to take care of the garage.”
He grabs his keys and heads for the door. “I’ll call Joe on the way. He’s capable of watching over things for a few days. Let’s go.”
I don’t bother to argue and just follow him to his truck. With Jackson behind the wheel, I don’t have to worry about driving. I know life as I’ve been living it, is about to get blown wide open. It’s going to be a long five-hour drive to Kansas. We’re clipping north up I-35 when Jackson finally begins talking. Damn, this is going to fuck with his life too. He’s my roommate, and there’s a high probability that I’m getting stuck with four kids. “Do you want to talk about it?” Okay, not what I was expecting.
I continue looking straight ahead, “About what?”
He’s watching the road as he continues, “Well, how about the fact that you haven’t talked to your family for three years. You have to be wigging out about this a little.”
I shake my head, “Nope, don’t want to talk about it.”
He nods his head. “Okay, so do you think you will be raising your brothers and sisters? I mean, you are their only family, right?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. I really don’t see my old man wanting me raising his other kids. I’m sure they have a family friend or something.”
“I don’t know, man. Sylvia was big on family. So let’s say you do get custody of them, what’s going to happen?”
At the moment, I’m having trouble trying to process what’s happened to give a clear answer, “I don’t know. I just want to get there, make sure they’re okay, and then play it by ear.”
He nods and we spend the rest of the trip making small talk about the shop which keeps me from having to worry about seeing my brothers and sisters after three years of radio silence. They have to hate me if they even remember me.
We arrive in Overland Park, which is a large suburb of Kansas City. It’s five in the morning, so I give the contact number a try. A recording informs me the office doesn’t open until nine. We decide to find a hotel and get some rest.
Jackson falls right to sleep after the long drive, and I’m staring at the fucking ceiling with a million damn thoughts going on in my head. I don’t remember much about my mom since she died of a drug overdose when I was five. My dad had married Sylvia when I was ten.
They immediately became a baby factory. First came Luke, followed by Cassie, Michael, and Gabby. I remember giving Sylvia shit in the beginning, but she stayed tough. Eventually, she won me over. She’s the only one I’ve talked to in the last three years after shit went down with my dad.
My phone alarm finally goes off at 8:45. At Social Services, we meet with a frazzled woman. After I tell her my name, she tells me how sorry she is for my loss.
I nod. “Thank you. I need to see my siblings.”
“Of course.” She flips through the huge pile of papers on her desk until she pulls out a file that’s labeled, ‘Monroe’. “Ah, okay. There’s some paperwork you need to fill out, and I need to get a copy of your ID. After that, we can pick up your siblings.”
Finally, after the paperwork is complete, Jackson and I are following her to a house across town to get the kids. I’m a nervous fucking wreck. Shit is about to get real.
Chapter 1
Dylan
We’re here. After three years I’m going to see my brothers and sisters, and it’s happening under some seriously fucked up circumstances. I don’t have a clue how they’ll react when they see me. I wonder if Gabby will even remember me. She was so small the last time I saw her. I can’t believe I let what went down with my dad keep me away from them. It had nothing to do with them. It was between the old man and me. I know I need to figure out how to make this shit right.
“Do you need me to come in with you?” asks Jax.
“No, man. You can wait here. I just want to grab them and go.”
Here goes nothing. I follow the social worker to the front door and try to psych myself up for what waits for me on the other side. A middle-aged woman answers the door. She has a sympathetic look on her face which does nothing to ease my fears. I don’t know if it’s for the shit storm the kids are going through, for us losing our parents, or both. Entering the house the first one I see is Cassie. My mind registers how much she’s grown. She sees me as I come in and grabs me, pulling me into a tight hug.
“Dylan,” she sobs. “They said you were coming. I’m so glad you’re here.” Her misery is all over her face from tear-stained cheeks to puffy, red eyes. I hug her back tightly, hoping like hell I’m offering her some comfort.
“Hey, Cass. I’m here. I’m taking you guys home with me. Where is everyone?”
“I’m here, Dylan.” Looking up, I see my oldest brother, Luke. He doesn’t look so much heartbroken as he does angry, no, scratch that, he looks pissed off. I’m assuming some of his anger is at me. I know I deserve it too. The last time I saw him, he was a scrawny 13-year-old, happy kid. I don’t see that now. “Are you taking us home?”
“Yeah, man. Just as soon as we gather up Michael and Gabby. Where are they?” He’s contemplating whether he’s going to answer me. He’s squinting his eyes and clenching his fists, kind of like he wants to tell me to go to hell.
Standing up from hugging Cassie, I go to Luke. Taking ahold of his shoulders firmly, “Luke, help me get the others ready to go home. I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.” After glaring at me a beat longer, he turns toward the back door of the house, and I see Michael and Gabby in the backyard.
I step outside on the porch and call their names. Michael runs to me and tackles me like Cassie did. Gabby just stares at me blankly. She just looks at me with a solemn expression on her face but doesn’t say a word. She has her dark hair in pigtails, and although she has obviously grown a lot in three years, she still has the same angelic face I remember.
I look down at Michael who is still clutching my waist. He looks at me from behind his glasses with a hesitant face, “Do we get to stay with you, Dylan?”
I nod, “Yeah, do me a favor and go inside with Cassie and Luke and gather your stuff.”
H
e runs inside the house to do what I asked.
I walk closer to Gabby and put my hand on her knee. I look into her eyes, which continue to stare blankly back at me. “Gabby, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Still nothing. She climbs off of the swing, and I kneel down and wrap my arms around her tiny frame. “I have no idea what you’ve been through in the last twenty-four hours, but I am here for you. Anything you need just let me know.”
I realize then that none of them have a reason to trust me and that I’m going to have to earn it, and I need to earn it fast. Losing their parents has to be killing them. Now, after three years of silence, I’m stepping back in to raise them.
Gabby and I go inside where Cassie, Michael, and Luke are standing in the foyer with the social worker and foster mother.
The lady from social services hands me a card when I approach and says quietly just to me, “This is your parents’ attorney. You need to contact him tomorrow so he can go over their will with you. Good luck, Dylan.”
The kids meet me at the front door, and we’re out. Cassie helps Michael and Gabby get buckled in Jax’s truck while Luke and I put their stuff in the back. Climbing in, the three oldest greet Jax. He came to Kansas with me several times while we were in college. That was before the shit hit the fan three years ago.
Jax and Sylvia always got along, but Sylvia got along with everyone. My dad, however, barely tolerated him. It’s because Jax is a wild card, and with him being my friend, he knew he had lost all control over the outcome of my life that he wanted.
Arriving at my parent’s house, Jax and I help the kids inside. I look around noticing nothing much has changed, and even though I grew up here I still feel like a stranger. Of course, I’m not surprised. I checked out of their lives, and they went on without me.
I walk over to the dining room table where we always ate our holiday meals. I remember how excited Sylvia always was to have everyone together. A sense of melancholy sweeps over me as I realize we won’t ever have that again.
The kids head to their rooms while Jackson and I go into the living room. The only differences are the addition of family pictures. None starring me, however. From the couch, Jax says, “The place hasn’t changed much. I expect Sylvia to walk in from the kitchen with a plate of cookies.”
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