Unattainable (Undeniable, #3)(35)

“You seem good,” I said, hoping to build a bridge over last night’s ocean full of confusion and regret, and head immediately for dry land. “No more nightmares?”

“Have it your way,” she said, sighing. “I’m going to shower then, I guess.”

As she began to turn, she paused. “You know, baby, I might be older than you, but I still know what pain is. I only wanted to help.”

I swallowed hard. Of course she knew what pain was. She’d had nothing but pain, and why would I want to contribute more to the ungodly amounts already weighing her down?

“Mom, I—”

The sharp chime of the doorbell cut me off.

Glancing to her right, my mother pursed her lips. “It’s too early for—”

“D! ANSWER THIS MOTHERFUCKING DOOR!”

At the sound of Jase’s voice, my mother turned an unhealthy shade of pale.

The doorbell chimed again, one, two, three times. This was followed by a demanding series of what sounded like someone trying to beat a door down with their fists.

I closed my eyes. Without fail, Jase loved making my visits home even more miserable.

“DOROTHY!”

“He sounds drunk again,” she whispered, staring down the hallway, her expression one of sheer terror. “Last time he showed up here drunk, he tried to kiss me.”

WHAT? Oh, hell no.

“Go in the back,” I said firmly, quickly crossing the kitchen, grabbing her car keys off the counter as I passed by her. “I’ll get rid of him.”

“Tegen!” she cried, grabbing my arm. “You know he gets violent when he drinks!”

“Fuck that,” I said, shaking her off. “He’s gonna get a foot to the dick if he tries anything.”

Shoving her car keys in the front pocket of my jeans, I grabbed the doorknob and waited for it. The second Jase started pounding again, I quickly flipped the lock and threw open the door. I ducked Jase’s fist and went barreling into his midsection. Caught off guard, he stumbled backward.

“Fuck!” he bellowed, grabbing for the railing before he went tumbling down the stairs.

“Lock this!” I shouted as I turned to pull the front door closed.

“D!” Jase yelled, having pulled himself back to standing and lunging for the door. I jumped in front of him and grabbed a handful of his shirt. “Stop!” I yelled. “Stop it right now!”

Jase blinked down at me through bloodshot brown eyes ringed in dark circles.

“Tegen?”

Duh.

“Yes, Jason,” I bit out. “Now, turn your drunk ass around and let’s get in the car.”

“What?” He blinked again, looking confused.

“The car!” I yelled, pointing to my mother’s four-door sedan in the driveway. “Get in the damn car! I’m taking you home!”

“I need to see D first,” he slurred, slapping at my arm, trying to pull free.

“Jason!” I screamed. “You will either get in the car or I will go inside, get a baseball bat, and use it to beat the shit out of your motherf*cking Harley!”

“Tegen,” he said hoarsely, and his eyes began to fill. “Please, please let me see her.”

Shit.

It was one thing to see a grown man cry, but it was another thing to watch a six-foot-plus, two-hundred-and-thirty-pound man covered head to toe in leather break down in front of you.

Still holding his shirt, with my free hand I reached up and slapped him across the face.

“How many bikers am I going to have to slap this weekend?” I yelled. “Get your shit together! Do you really think she wants to see you like this? No! She doesn’t. You look like f*cking shit, you smell like f*cking shit, and you’re a babbling, crying mess! Nobody wants to see you like this! Now, get in the car before I call Deuce and he makes you sit in the corner for acting like a douchebag!”

Jase’s mouth flattened. “Don’t call him.”

“I will,” I said, releasing him with a small shove. “If you don’t walk your ass off this porch and get IN THE MOTHERFUCKING CAR!”

Jase lost his balance and his boot slid backward off the top step. Any other time, under any other circumstances, I would have found humor in watching Jase fall off a three-step porch and land on his ass. But this was just sad.

“I’m fine,” he said, struggling to get to his feet.

“Great,” I muttered, grabbing his arm. “I can rest easy tonight.”

Once I had him buckled into the passenger seat, I glanced back at the condo and found my mother standing at the window, staring at Jase, tears streaming down her cheeks.

What a f*cking mess.

? ? ?

“Where the f*ck is the Patrón?” Cage demanded from behind the bar.

Cox, who was seated opposite him, jerked his thumb over at Blue. “Wake the f*ck up, you old drunk!” he yelled. “You’re sleepin’ on top of the Patrón!”

Blue cracked an eyelid and gave Cox a toothless grin. “Get outta my face, ya f*ckin’ crazy little spic,” he slurred. “This baby’s mine.” Then the old bastard fell promptly back to sleep.

Cage remembered his father saying once, a long time ago, that Blue had been around seventy-five, but that he wasn’t really sure and could very well have been eighty-five or ninety-five, for all he knew. Which, if that were true, Blue could be well over a hundred now and looked it. Still drank like a damn fish, though.