Page 8 of Wreckage of My Life
“When do you need this information by?” he throws the pad of paper and pencil on the desk, then interlocks his fingers and flexes them in and out, like he is warming up for all the typing he’ll have to do.
“Yesterday,” I call behind me as I walk toward the door. “Don’t let me down, Shortie.”
I step out into the hallway and let out a huge sigh. How did this day get from me waking up with Number One and Number Two sucking me dry tohey, you have a son and I need you to pay me fifty grand if you want me to continue feeding him?
My day is completely wrecked now. I need to find something to occupy my mind.
I need fun.
4
Becca
I lookaround the filthy biker bar my cousin Lena dragged me to. I mean, to say it’s gross does not even begin to cover it. It’s like one giant Petri dish, I decide as I watch this disgusting creature passing for a human spitting on the worn hardwood flooring.
“Why are we here again?” I pull on Lena’s shirt to get her attention.
“To hook up, duh!” She elbows me and starts cackling like it’s a given.
I have no idea why I traveled all the way from Montana to meet Lena. I found her through Facebook as I was trying to locate family members on my father’s side. Lena responded right away, she’s a second cousin twice removed, whatever that means. We started chatting and hit it off. She invited me to come see her in Texas, I jumped at the opportunity.
And now, here I am, in a disgusting place, surrounded by disgusting people.
“You see anyone you like?” She whispers in my ear, her eyes bouncing around as if the room is packed with all these hot people. I must be blind because I don’t see any.
On a side note, I never realized how desperate I had been to connect with any blood relations. My parents died just as I graduated high school five years ago. They were driving home after going to one of my little brother’s football games. He was in middle school at the time, and fortunately, he had to take the school bus with the team on their way back. My parents got t-boned by a truck who hadn’t realized that the stoplight had changed to red. He slammed right into my parents’ car, killed them on the spot.
That left me not only an orphan, but also in charge of my brother, Colton. I had just reached the ripe old age of eighteen, Colton had just turned twelve. We didn’t have any other family, with all grandparents dead and our parents having had no siblings.
That’s how Colton and I found ourselves trying to navigate life with me as his legal guardian, and him testing me at every corner.
I thought finding Lena was godsent. Now, as I’m looking around the place she brought me to, I am not so sure. I wish I was home picking on my brother. He is seventeen now, and he thinks he knows it all. I always have to bring him back to reality.
“Becca, don’t look,” Lena gasps next to me. “But there are a couple of guys sitting at the bar who are checking us out,” she squeals, bringing their attention to us.
“Oh?” I can’t help it and turn my head to look. What I see by the bar makes me shiver, and not in pleasure. Those guys look dirty and greasy, and I’d rather die than let them touch me or see me naked.
“Aren’t they cute?” Lena is halfway in love.
“Go on and talk to them if you want,” I nudge her in the back. “I’ll go find something to drink, okay?”
“Okay,” she chews on her gum so loudly, I feel like it’s applying pressure to my brain. Also, the only drink I am hoping to find is some bottled water. I need something that has not been opened yet. The seal needs to be intact.
I make my way around a bunch of questionable individuals, ignoring all the cat calling and suggestive hand gestures.
“What’ll it be, hon?” the waitress who also serves as a bartender takes pity on me when she sees me approaching.
“Do you have bottled water?”
The look on her face tells me not just no, but hell no.
“I’m good,” I put a hand up and smile. I even drop a dollar in the tip jar sitting on the bar top, even though she didn’t do anything for me.
“You lost?” comes a gruff voice way too close for comfort. I jump, startled to death, and turn my head only for my eyes to clash with a pair of brown ones. And they’re not just brown, but more like a weird hazel color. The rest of him is surprisingly clean, and I hate to admit, but I do not dislike what I see, especially the bulging tattooed muscles of his arms.
“Well,” he lifts an eyebrow in question. It makes him look so full of himself, and also so hot. His dark hair is on the longer side, all slicked back and covered with a baseball cap that he wears backwards. I hate the way my pulse picks up at the way he’s looking at me.
“Well what?” I snap and stick a hand on my hip while leaning with my other one against the bar top.
