Page 59 of Wreckage of Me
My half brother.
Allegedly.
20
Dylan
“Your mom’s hot,”Puck snickers from next to me, making me clench my teeth. I turn my head to look at him and see his eyes fixed on Ma’s ass.
“Dude, if you don’t start looking somewhere else, and fast, I’m gonna make you wish you were with Shortie right about now,” I growl at him.
This last week and a half has been intense. Finding out that Wyatt is not my father’s son explained a lot about why my mother always seemed to favor him more. I wonder if my father ever suspected it, and that’s why he released him from the club so easily when he turned eighteen.
And speaking of my father, my mother had all the paperwork for the life insurance filled out by an attorney. All I had to do was sign on the dotted line and send it back to him. I expected it all to be rejected, especially due to the insane dollar amount on it.
Two point five million dollars.
I already had enough money saved from all the work I did for the club over the years. I used some of it to put in a trust account for Ethan. I felt like that would be the least I could do for him. Not be a completely deadbeat sperm donor.
“Not my fault your mom’s hot,” Puck nudges me with his elbow, cracking up as he points the bottle of beer his holding toward where my mother is chatting with Devereaux and some other people.
Somehow, we found ourselves at the family gathering Devereaux decided to have for his nephew, David, also known to us as Shortie. Sully is running late, so it’s just me and Puck, standing to the side, watching the people around us.
Some give us funny looks. I guess that’s because we stand out in a crowd of clean cut people. I am covered in tattoos that while are covered by the long sleeves of my white t-shirt, they’re still visible when I pull them up.
“Hi,” I hear a sultry voice calling. This woman somehow materialized in front of me when I wasn’t paying attention.
“Hey,” I lift my chin at her, but don’t give her much else.
“I’m Melody,” she introduces herself, then puts her hand out for me to shake. I stare at it for a second, unsure of what’s happening here.
“Okay.” I take a sip from the bottle of the beer I’ve been nursing. This girl thinks she’s hot shit. I’ve dealt with the likes of her. They were a dime a dozen at the club. Only difference is that this girl’s makeup is not as flashy as the club whores’ was.
“Uh, so how did you know David?” She puts her hand down, looking around awkwardly.
“Work,” is all I say, then take another sip of my beer.
“Oh, so you, uh, you do the same thing that David did?” This is literally the worst way someone has ever hit on me.
“Yeah,” I grumble, then just turn around and walk away. I have not smiled at one human since I got here. That was on purpose so that people would leave me alone. And now this. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the sky when I see another female giving me a come-hither smile. I need to stop making eye contact with people.
“Hey, where you goin’?” Puck catches up with me, sounding way too amused for my liking.
“I think I had enough of this,” I glance around us, trying not to look or sound as disgusted as I feel. “I can’t imagine Shortie having grown up in this life,” I finally admit out loud.
“Uh, yeah,” Puck agrees. “Kinda different than life in the club, right?”
“Right,” I sigh, my mind going once again to what my future will now be. I have zero plans. I have no idea where to go or what to do next. I’ve never been on my own in my life. I have no idea if I’m the lone wolf type. I need at least a small group at my back.
“Your girl’s here,” Puck elbows me, his never wavering from whatever he’s staring at. I glance that way and freeze in the spot.
“What the fuck?” I mutter to no one in particular. Becca just walked into Devereaux’s mansion. And she’s not alone.
“She’s hot,” Puck grins her way, lifting his chin in greeting.
I’m not sure she’s noticed me yet. I am standing a little to the side, perfect spot from where to just observe. My plan was to sneak out of here sooner rather than later. No fucking way I’m leaving now.
“Who the fuck is that with her?” I growl at Puck, like it’s his fault that Becca showed up at Shortie’s memorial with some douchebag on her arm.
