Page 22 of Bombshell (Whiskey Dolls 1)

The final pin in my relationship with my brother came the day of my wife’s funeral. He’d shown up drunk off his ass and it had taken four men to pull me off him. I was grieving while still having to keep my shit together for my infant son when all I wanted to do was fall apart. The love of my life was gone, and that son of a bitch had spent the night before her funeral, all the way past sun-up, partying his ass off until he arrived at the funeral home.

I was done after that. And surprisingly, after witnessing his behavior that day, my mom didn’t say a word when I washed my hands of him.

He blew out a beleaguered sigh, like he had any business feeling that way. “You think this is easy for me? Callin’ my perfect Golden Boy brother for help? Newsflash, it’s not. So how about you cut me a little slack, huh?”

“For fuck’s sake,” I clipped, losing the tenuous hold on my temper I was always so careful to maintain while at work. “Say what you want or I’m hanging up.”

“I need you to front me some cash. Not a lot, just a couple grand.”

“No.”

“All I’m askin’ for is a loan. That’s it. I’ll pay you back.”

“Words I’ve heard a thousand times, Frank. What the hell have you gotten yourself into now?”

If I listened close enough, I was sure I could have heard the sound of his teeth grinding through the line. “I fucked up, okay? I’ve been seein’ this chick, and she just came to me, telling me she’s pregnant, but she doesn’t have the money to... take care of it.”

A bark of incredulous laughter exploded from my chest. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I bit out. “This is not a problem, Frank. You’re both adults, not pathetic teenagers sneaking around behind your parents’ backs. Grow the fuck up and handle your business like a man.”

“Neither of us wants a kid right now, okay? She’s only twenty, for fuck’s sake. She’s got college classes and shit, and I don’t have the time—”

“Jesus Christ,” I seethed, feeling my blood pressure reach an all new high at the same time that pulsing behind my eyes grew into a stabbing pain. “You’ve been fucking atwenty-year-old? You’re thirty-five! What the hell is wrong with you?” I shouted.

“Hey, get off my back. She’s legal, asshole.”

“You’re pathetic,” I seethed. “I don’t know what the hell you did to fuck it up with Marin, but this is just proof of what a loser you are. You had a woman like that, and now you’re banging someone fifteen years younger than you. She’s not even legal to drink!”

“Fuck you, man,” he hissed. “That bitch was psychotic. I’m glad I got shot of her ass.”

“Why don’t I believe for a second that you were the one to pull the plug on that relationship?”

“You know what? I really don’t give a shit what you think. Marin Grey was a whack job. I’m lucky to be out of that. Now, are you gonna help me or not?”

“Not a chance in hell,” I gritted. “You made your bed... with a barely-legalgirl, I might add. Now you have to lie in it. For the sake of this kid, I hope you get your shit straight before it gets here, and Ireallyfucking hope this chick has a better head on her shoulders than you do.”

“Fuck you, Pierce,” Frank seethed into the phone. “Fuck you!”

I didn’t bother saying another word before I dropped the phone back into the cradle on my desk, ending the call with my piece-of-shit brother.

Before I had a chance to second guess myself, I snatched my cellphone off the desk and scrolled through my contacts, right to Marin’s name.

Two rings later, her melodic voice filled my ear. “Hello?”

“Marin? It’s Pierce.”

“Oh. Hi.” The surprise was evident in her voice. It had been a week since she’d given me her number, so I was sure she’d figured she wouldn’t be hearing from me. “Uh... how are you?”

She seemed a little winded, which added a husky sentualness to her words. “You sound out of breath. Did I call at a bad time?”

“Oh, no. It’s good. I just finished rehearsal, is all.”

I knew the burlesque club where she worked was a pretty big deal. It had been featured in all the local papers as well as a few big magazines as one of the hottest spots on the East Coast. From what I read, a majority of that hype was due to the girls who performed night after night, but in my efforts to avoid Marin, I’d made the conscious decision a long time ago not to set foot in that club, no matter how alluring the thought was.

“So what’s up? I’m guessing that since you’re so busy you aren’t calling just to chat.”

I could actually hear the smile in her teasing words, and suddenly, the throbbing in my head began to lessen, and I found myself grinning at the phone like an idiot. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to reach out. Things have been a little crazy.” As far as excuses went, it was pretty damn lame, but it wasn’t like I could admit that I’d been letting my attraction to her fuck with my head and twist me up inside.

“That’s okay. I get it.”

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