Page 35 of Rough
“Comin’!” I shout back, and haul ass out of bed, shoving my legs into yesterday’s jeans. As soon as I hit the hallway, Wilder is running out of his room, jerking his zipper up as well, eyes wide and silently asking me what the hell I did to piss her off. Widening my eyes back at him, I whisper, “No fuckin’ clue.”
“Remington!I swear on my mother’s grave, if you don’t come fix this right now, I’m gonna lose it!”
“Fuck,” I bite out, practically falling down the stairs, Wilder hot on my trail as we both slide into the kitchen where my mom is opening, then slamming shut cupboard doors, hair sticking out in different directions.
“The hell, mom?” I swallow down the rest of my words when she whips around and points a wooden spoon at me, fury in her eyes. My gaze stays on the vibrating end of that spoon, knowing for sure that it can cause a deep sting forhoursafter being applied to a bare ass.
A low growl escapes from deep within her chest just before she jerks the spoon to point toward the front of the house. “There are…people. Out there. On my lawn.Tramplin’ my flowers!Why are there people here lookin’ forRustic Romeo?” she hisses, doing quotations around my online nickname.
“I’ll take care of them,” Wilder says, slapping my shoulder before heading into the laundry room to grab a shirt. Yanking it on, he passes the two of us, me trying to come up with a way to explain, and mom shooting bolts of lightning at me.
“Rustic Romeo?” she bites out once we hear the door shut. I wince at her tone, feeling embarrassed that she’s finding out like this.
Rubbing the back of my head, I carefully sidestep over to the table and lower myself slowly, keeping her in my eyeline. “Yeah. It’s just a nickname that sorta stuck. Clyde and Wild have silly ones, too.”
“Oh yeah? What are they?” she asks sarcastically. I don’t think she really cares, but if I can get her to laugh, I know I’m in the clear.
Letting the corner of my lip tilt up, I give her a sheepish grin. “Wild is Wildlife.”
“That’s better than yours,” she says, dropping the spoon on the table with a thunk. Sitting across from me, she crosses her arms and tilts her head.
“Yeah, his isn’t as bad as Clyde’s. They callhimBlushin’ Bill.”
Mom lets out a very unladylike snort just as Clyde comes stomping through the back door. “Shut your hole,” he mumbles after overhearing me while bending over to untie his boots.
“Where you been?” I ask, but my mom answers for him.
“He was up early and offered to run to the grocery store for me. I got a lot of cookin’ to do over the next few days to get ready for Saturday.” Leaning forward, she reaches her hand out to grip mine. “Remy, I need them gone. We can’t have people takin’ pictures and watchin’ us from the bushes when we’re mournin’ your dad. It’s not right.”
Shit shit shit.
“I’ll make sure they’re all gone, mom.”
Nodding once, she jerks her head toward the back door. “Go bring those bags in for me and put them away.”
Wilder is able to get everyone to disappear quickly and we spend the rest of the day doing chores around the house for mom. Trina shows her face for lunch, but claims to have work to do and stays hidden in her room for the afternoon. By the time we’ve finished with dinner, the guys and I decide to head out to the bar for some drinks.
One look from Clyde has Trina rescinding her offer to tag along, and she slinks back up to her room. I should feel bad that she’s stuck in the house, but honestly, I think we all just need a break to ground ourselves back home. What I really need to do is get over to Betsy’s place and take Zeus for a ride.
My stomach turns with the remembered anger, and I grit my teeth as we push the door open and enter the bar.
It’s like I fucking conjured Betsy with my thoughts because there she fucking is. Throwing her head back and laughing loudly at whatever her suit-clad table partner just said to her, and I want to storm over there and give her another piece of my mind.How fuckingdareshe be this happy when my life feels like it’s crumbling around me?
Wilder grabs my shoulder just as I move toward them and spins me to face the bar. “Order a fuckin’ drink first, Rem. Don’tneed a fight where the gossip hounds can call your momma and tattle on ya.”
Growling, I turn my back on her and the man she’s spending time with, not likingthatat all, and push my way through everyone to get to the bar. Once we all have our beers, I turn around to watch her as I take a large gulp from my bottle. Pointing it at her, I ask, “Who the fuck you think that is?”
“Thatis my brother.” I jerk my eyes to the voice that came from my right and see Andy Boyd, a guy we went to school with, cradling a mixed drink between his hands. He has his lip curled up in a very unfriendly way, more of a snarl instead of the smirk I’m sure he’s trying to give us.
“That dude is the mayor? Looks like he’s got like fifteen years on you,” Wilder says, moving to stand next to him.
Shrugging, Andy leans back and looks at all of us. “Yep. After Betsy and I broke up, she went runnin’ to him. They see each other all the time now.”
Ignoring the sound that escapes from Clyde, I tilt my head toward them and ask, “She’s datin’ him?”
“Probably. Henri likes to say they just meet for business, but if ya ask me, business shouldn’ require as many meetin’s as they have together. I think she was just usin’ me to get to him for hookups.” He guzzles the rest of his drink and snaps at the bartender for another one.Fucking asshole.When his glazed over eyes meet mine, he grins. “Girl has no problem goin’ for what she wants, if you ask me.”
“What kinda hookups she gettin’ from him?” Although he’s obviously drunk, he seems to know shit that I find myself very much interested in.
