Page 11 of Interpreter

I’d promise my first born if it got me out of this office.

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

And now we’re being petty.

“Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, Tim.”

Don’t count on it.

In the parking lot, with the much-needed space between me and Dr. Parker, I recognize Anniston’s SUV with familiar faces inside.

“I brought some bitches to cheer you up,” Theo says, not bothering to sign his words as he leans out of the driver’s side window.

Hayes, in the passenger seat, flips him off, his shoulders bouncing in laughter before he speaks, signing his words in tandem with his voice. “Come on, sugar, let’s get you fucked-up.”

I’m not a drinker. None of us are. Most of the time, it’s simply a beer next to the pool or on the deck while we wait on the grill. Getting drunk has been a thing of the past, but with Dr. Parker’s words still whirling around in my head, I’m thinking getting fucked-up sounds like the perfect solution.

I’m not stuck.

I do enjoy the world.

And I’m especially going to enjoy tonight with my friends and the slobbery dog in the back that is giving me a“What the fuck are you waiting on?”expression.

I smirk, aiming it at Hayes for his term of endearment that drives Bianca crazy. “Oorah.”

Three.

That’s how many shots of tequila I’ve had.

Four is the number of times Anniston has texted to be sure we haven’t drowned ourselves in the pool.

Once we got home from making a stop at the liquor store, we immediately retreated to the newly installed in-ground pool. That’s where we went wrong. The sun. The booze. The most ruthless game of volleyball ever in the shallow end of the pool… it all contributed to this drunken moment on the lounge chair, applying another layer of sunscreen that smells like sex and sand—something I miss terribly.

“So, are the girls coming home tonight?” I question, rubbing the chalk-white lotion into my skin and watching it disappear underneath the natural tan coloring. I could use some time watching Peppa Pig with my girl, Aspen.

Theo narrows one eye, a skill he has perfected over the years. “Why? Do you needbothMommy and Daddy to tuck you in tonight?”

He doesn’t sign his words, but I don’t misinterpret a one. The dude is a smart-ass and it has me chuckling before flipping him off. He knows I never miss a night with my girl and her crackers. Cade shoves at his shoulder, causing Theo’s drunk ass to stumble before righting himself and adding, “No, sweet boy. Mommy and the other two mommies are all staying in the spare barracks tonight so the men can have some peace.” He smirks at Cade. “Except Jameson. He’ll sneak down there so B can sing him to sleep later.”

I laugh, watching the other guys all hide their grins at Cade’s expense. Breck doesn’t sing him to sleep, but instead, writes on her blog late at night. Her typing lulls him into a deep slumber or into her pants, in which the orgasm lulls him to sleep. Either way, he sleeps, and Cade sleeping through the night is something we never thought would happen.

Up until a couple of years ago, Cade would wake the house with his nightly screams. I’d never seen PTSD as bad as his. But that’s not saying much since I’d never been on the front lines, nor was my stint in the military a long one. I’m just saying that, although the guys are giving Cade shit about going back to the spare barracks, they do it with an appreciation of him finally being able to rest.

And besides, Cade and Theo are always giving each other shit. It’s what they do. They met under weird circumstances, and somewhere in between fighting with each other, they developed a brotherhood. One that entertains us all. Theo may seem like an inconsiderate prick sometimes, but I have the utmost respect for him. He’s never treated me any different. He gives me just as much shit as he does Hayes and the others. Something I’ve learned to appreciate over the years—normality.

“You’re such an asshole,” Cade signs, a grin tugging at his lips.

Theo looks aghast. “Why am I an asshole? Because I know you will go begging for Breck to tug on Jameson Junior until you go night-night? Or the fact that Tim has a standing date with my daughter every night?” He glares my way before it morphs into a teasing look. Aspen Von Bremen may be the family princess, but she’s the queen in my kingdom. “Besides, it was my idea to get Tim plastered in the first place. None of you fuckers had the brilliant idea.”

Theo looks around the pool, his eyes landing on Mason who is floating on a pink raft. Killer, his retired military K9, is lying over his legs that are heavily scarred from years of service. “Mason didn’t come up with the idea. His head has been so far up the pity asshole that he can barely breathe through the shit.”

Mason doesn’t bother looking up and acknowledging Theo’s observation. Probably because he knows it’s true. Hayes told me that he’s been morose and seems to be taking my hearing loss harder than I am. I can’t disagree since he’s kept his distance from me. My guess is there is more going on, and I feel like shit since I haven’t asked him about it. I, too, have been “up the pity asshole.”

“Hayes,” Theo continues, “can’t stop fucking Bianca long enough to notice that Kane has been playing pool with her on text message.”

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