Page 19 of Dirty Martini
“Ding, ding, ding,” he giggles, burping as he wipes his mouth with the inside of his arm. He looks around with glossy eyes that can’t focus on anything in particular. “Where are we?”
I snort and help him up by hooking my hands under his armpits, which is hard as fuck, considering he’s not doing anything to make it easier. I’m not a small guy, Everest is just huge. “In Wonderland, Alice.”
“You’resoooooofunny, Rhys,” he slurs, resting his head on my shoulder. “You were always the funniest.”
I try not to laugh at that. The way he mimics airplane sounds as I start to lead him to the back door makes me chuckle because it’s just too fucking endearing.
Not cute. Never cute.
I know I need to tell Britt that I have to extend my break to make sure he gets into a car alright. Propping him against the back door, I fish through my pockets for the keys, but his words make me nearly drop them.
“Do you hate me, Rhys?”
I stop, almost like a deer caught in headlights. I wasn’t expecting him to say that, maybe mumble some more drunken nonsense. “I don’t hate you.”
“Yeah, you do,” he insists, and my traitorous heart cracks when he starts sniffling. “I don’t want you to hate me. Too much hate already. Too much…”
“What are you—” But then I catch it, and it makes all my other thoughts disappear out the window.
His eyes.
I work at a club, for fuck’s sake, so I know what it looks like when people are fucked up. With the way he’s leaning against the wall, the light illuminating the back entrance shines directly on his green eyes. Eyes that are a touch darker than hisbrother’s. Eyes that carry an emotion I can’t quite place. Eyes that are dilated as hell.
I seize the tip of his chin, angling his head to the light to make sure I’m not making shit up. “Are you rolling?” I ask, and there’s no hiding the snarl in the question.
He lets out a hiccupped laugh. “More like soaring.”
I try not to be a person who judges others. Not when my life isn’t the picture of perfection. I’m not a saint, but a firm lineIdon’t cross is drugs. I’ve never tried them, and I don’t plan to any time soon. I’m not an idiot, though, and I understand the reality of being a teenager living in Miami. Drugs are everywhere and everyone experiments, but two things happen to me at once.
An overwhelming surge of protectiveness once again takes over me. Everest is a big boy, but seeing him fucked on drugs calls to a side of me that’s been dormant for so long. The side that needs to protect, to coddle, to ensure that nothing and nobody ever touches a hair on his damn head. It’s all tied up with that annoying fondness I apparently still feel for him that I’m starting to resent. Why is it that all I want to do is bring him home, get him a glass of water, tuck him into bed, and sit at his side just for good measure to make sure he’s okay? It’s this urgent need to simply see him be okay, something that’s been building since I saw him with Knox.
But then thatpettyside of me is pissed. Pissed that he was stupid enough to get himself so fucked up. Pissed that he found himself in a potentially dangerous situation with no one to help him. Pissed that the past is repeating itself. Pissed that I agreed for him to be my problem.
And, at the end of the day, anger always wins out.
Before I can think better of it, I’m grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him to me, shaking him to see if it’ll drop some sobriety into him. “You want to know if I hate you? You want to know why?”
His eyes widen at my outburst. He doesn’t try to escape my grip, just nods dumbly. “Yeah.”
“Because ofthisshit!” I shout, knowing nobody is going to hear us. “Because you have everything life could possibly offer! Because you’ve been raised with a goddamn silver spoon in your mouth! Because you take advantage of your privilege by fucking up your life! But wait, no, it’smylife you ended up ruining!”
“Rhys…” he mumbles. Eyes watering, he opens and closes his mouth, shaking his head. “I’m sorry?—”
“You’re sorry? That’s the best you got? After four years with no fucking apology,nowyou’re sorry because you got caught?”
I know I should shut my mouth. I’m tired from a long night of working. I’m irritable because Elton’s made me promise something I can’t guarantee. I’m so annoyingly worried about Everest. I’m livid that he’s fucked up, and I can’t stop myself now. I’ve started this outpouring of everything I’ve kept inside and now I can’t control it.
I let go of him quickly, causing him to stumble a bit, and throw my hands up in the air. “I mean, fuck, what were you thinking?”
“It’s not a big deal,” he tries to defend, but his words come out shaky and unsure. I can see it’s taking all his concentration to be able to have a coherent conversation, which only serves to enrage me further. “It’s just a little Molly and some alcohol. Why are you so upset?”
“Because after four years, and ruining my life, you’ve learned nothing! Because you’ve never once had to deal with the consequences of your actions and now you’remyproblem!”
Something about what I said makes him snap. He uses all that impressive strength to shove me against the wall, chest heaving with intensity as nothing but anger coats his features. I’ve only ever seen this type of reaction from him once, and itscared the shit out of me the first time. Not because I thought he was going to hurt me, but because it’s just not…Everest.
“I’m not your fucking problem!” he growls. His large hands keep me pressed against the wall, not an inch of space between us. “Just let Elton think that you’re watching over me, but leave me the fuck alone.”
I stop at that. “You know?—”
