Jackson Stiles, Road to Redemption (Road to Redemption #1)(75)

“You really like her, huh?”

I finish the shot and set the glass down, hard. “In a disastrous kinda way, yes.”

I hate admitting that f*ckery, but hell, he’s got a point.

A very small, infinitesimal point, but still.

What? I know big words. I don’t necessarily like using them on the daily. People would get the wrong ideas about me if I did.

“So what’s the problem?”

I swig another drink down and turn to face him. “The problem, Nick, is that I don’t think she is who she says she is.”

“You wanna expand on that?”

“Not really.”

My f*cking head hurts.

“Well, then…” He takes a shot glass down from the cabinet, pours himself a shot, then fills mine back up. “Maybe you should figure that shit out.”

He holds his glass up and waits for me to take mine. I pick it up and touch his, then we throw the liquid back together. Nothing else is said after that until he reminds me, “We still are, you know.”

“What?”

“Brothers.”

I nod, wishing we were still three instead of two.

The tattoo on my shoulder burns like hell, and I have no f*cking idea where my cigarette is.

“I know.”

Nick makes for the other room and plops himself down onto the couch. I stay behind, in the kitchen, and pour myself another shot.

“Isn’t Mia expecting you home?”

“I called her; told her I’d be late. Wanted to check in with you.”

The TV clicks on as I put the glass to my lips. Smooth liquid slides down the back of my throat, and I focus on the burn there as opposed to the burning inside my chest.

“You don’t have to babysit me, you know.”

I set the glass down next to the Patron and join Nick in the living room. He smiles as he pulls out the remote for the Wii and starts up Mario Kart.

“I know.”





X X X


A half-bottle of tequila and fifteen video game races later, my cell phone rings.

“Hey, Jackson.”

“Hey.” I check the time and lose the remote as I sit up straight and eye my brother. I don’t need him knowing about Stix, so I leave the room and talk low in the kitchen.

Shit, it’s late.

Is the room spinning or is that me?

“Everything okay?”

“I’m fine. No bad cops, no good cops, no drug dealers or mob hit men have been seen.”

“So you’re okay?” Did I ask him that already?

“Yeah, totally.”

“Sorry, I didn’t make it back.”

“It’s all good. But you know, you said to check in so…”

“Good deal.”

“Your TV sucks, by the way. Can’t you at least get cable?”

I spot the pile of Xbox bullshit I bought the other day and tell him I’ll bring it over first thing. When he hears Nick asking me to grab him a water, he wants to know, “Is that Emma?”

This guy and Green. Jesus Christ.

“No.”

There’s no way in hell I’m telling him who it really is.

I hear Nick rustling around like he’s getting up in the other room and cut my conversation short. “Listen, I gotta go, kid. We’ll talk in the morning.”

I toss the phone onto the counter just as Nick is walking into the kitchen.

“It’s f*cking late.”

“Time flies.” I clap my hands together, then point at him with an afterthought. “Should you be driving?”

“Uh, Jackie?”

“Yeah?”

“I stopping drinking about two hours ago.”

The Patron bottle looks damn near empty. No way I drank that much. I just bought that motherf*cker a few days ago.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Fuck me.

“You sure?”

Nick grabs his jacket. “No, you don’t have a problem.” Sarcasm drips like molasses from his lips, and I flip him the bird.

“Been a long week. Don’t judge.”

“Hey, as long as you’re not drinking and driving, I see no need to discuss the matter any further.”

He slides his big arms through the sleeves of his coat and finds his phone in the pocket. When he checks it, it’s written all over his face. Big mistake.

“Ah, man. Mia’s gonna have my head when I get home.”

I laugh and he scowls. “What’s so funny about that?”

“You said head. And then you said, Mia’s gonna have your…” I wave at him. “Never mind.”

“You are so twelve, you know that?”

“Fuck you very much. Now get out.”

He punches me in the arm and gives me a short wave as he leaves. When I shut the door behind him, I lean against it for a minute. As waves of unbalance pass, I get a sour feeling in the pit of my stomach, and it’s not from the Patron.

The problem with drinking to forget about a shitty day is the more you drink, the more you think about said shitty day.

I start to clean up the place and down a bottle of water I picked up at Target the other night. I try not to think about Green and her cohort working against me. The one thing I can’t stop wondering, though, is why are they working against me?