Page 33 of Roan

As we enter the house, the waterfall catches Agustin’s attention first. It stuns everyone because it’s directly inside the front door. He raises his eyebrows but says nothing. Would he be speechless to know an impressionable sixteen-year-old me had been in that waterfall, naked?

Probably.

To the left, the kitchen, to the right, the den and library filled with trophies of the three legends who occupy the home. Surrounding the waterfall is the massive circular staircase leading up to the twelve bedrooms, even the one on the third floor where my heart last broke.

I yank Agustin by the hand. “I need to find my dad.”

Beastie Boys “Intergalactic” flows through the house and I follow the voices. I end up running into my dad around the next corner as he places a Band-Aid on a crying Berlin’s chin. Ricky holds her still, talking softly to his daughter. Matted ringlets cascade down her back, Berlin’s tears slowing. Ricky sets her down on the tile floor of the kitchen and a moment later, she’s standing beside me. I’m in awe at how much she’s grown.

“Stay off the bike without shoes on,” he warns her as she takes off with her best bud these days, River. It’s a strange concept seeing kids running around this place when usually all I’ve ever witnessed was men half-dressed—most of the time naked—and topless women pining for their attention, willing to do anything and everything to get them between their legs. And drugs. Lots and lots of drugs.

Now there are kids and toys scattered in a living room where I once witnessed a foursome. It’s freaking crazy. I’m not entirely sure what Agustin makes of it. He reads history novels before bed. I bet he’d have a heart attack if he knew the things I’d done here.

Dad notices me and Agustin standing in the corner and I step forward, handing him the paperwork. “Mom needs your signature on this.”

“Oh, right.” He pats his chest, looking for a pen. “I totally forgot before I left.”

As I nervously begin to dive right into a full anxiety attack, on high alert of every movement around me, I scan the room in search of Roan. I don’t see him, but I hear his name mentioned by Willa, who jokingly says, “That’s what you get for letting Roan fly the drone in the house.”

I have no idea what she’s talking about, but I think it might have something to do with the airplane drone stuck in the twenty-foot walls lining the living room.

I don’t know why I say what comes out of my mouth next. Fear maybe?

“Oh, is Roan back?” I attempt the “I didn’t know” face, but I’m sure I fail miserably at it.

Ricky smiles, it’s warm and animated, always. “He’s outside with Shade.”

I return the smile, but it fades when Tiller enters the room, singing along to Lizzo’s “Truth Hurts” blaring through the house. He’s on crutches and using them as props, or a stripper pole, I’m really not sure. I hope he trips on them.

“We should go,” I tell Agustin, but it doesn’t happen.

Nope. The Wild Cat spotted us and he smells fresh blood. Tiller wraps his arm around my shoulders, pushing himself between me and Agustin. He glances at Agustin. “Who’s Aladdin?”

Don’t you dare laugh. Yes, I see the resemblance, but Tiller is just being a shit as usual. I knew what coming here with Agustin meant. I did.

I push him off us. “His name is Agustin. And he’s my boyfriend.”

He laughs, limping to the side where he reaches for crutches. “I can’t wait to see how this plays out.”

“Why are you on crutches? Did Amberly realize you’re a monster and try to kill you?”

He smirks. “Oh, probably sooner than later she’ll know, but I popped a ball.”

Confused, I stare at him. “What?”

Look at the wicked smile. He’s about to do something stupid and before I can tell him never mind, I don’t care, he drops his shorts and shows me his balls. Dick and all. I don’t want to look, but I do and he’s right. His left nut is black with bruises. “Holy crap,” I gasp. “How did that happen?”

“Jesus Christ, Tiller.” Amberly comes into the room and sighs. “Pull your fucking pants up! There are kids around here.”

Poor Agustin. He’s still staring at Tiller like he can’t believe someone like him exists in the world, let alone the fact that his shorts are around his ankles and his dick is hanging out.

Tiller shrugs and yanks his shorts up. “I landed on the jewels in Phoenix last week.”

“I have no idea how you’re not dead with the shit you’ve done,” I say, shaking my head.

“I have no idea either.” He reaches down and pulls his shorts up. “But it’s not without effort on my part.”

A wave of nausea hits me. Not from seeing Tiller’s dick. That’s old news. I’ve seen all three brothers completely naked on a handful of occasions. What gets me feeling like I might puke is my dad handing me the paperwork, me tucking it inside my bag and him yanking me to the backyard.

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