Scarred: A New Adult Romance (The Anderson Brothers Series Book 1) (4 page)

Larry
sighs and rubs his forehead. “Sorry, kid. I’m just tired from having been here
all day trying to get caught up with these repairs. It sucks being
short-staffed.”

“It
really does,” I mutter. “I wish Frank would hire more help already.”

“Hopefully
soon. But for now, we’ll manage like we always do. This ain’t the first time
this shit’s happened.”

Larry
is always optimistic. Part of the reason I always look forward to coming to
work. In his eyes, there’s always hope no matter how bad it gets.

It
was the attitude of a father—a
real
father, like I always wanted, but could never have.

 

 

Chapter 4

 

It’s almost eleven thirty by the time I get back home. I’m surprised when I go inside not to hear any women’s voices.
Maybe Chris went to the gig. But when I enter the living room, I find Chris on
the couch in a T-shirt and boxers, playing one of his football videogames on
the big-screen TV.

“You’re
still here?”

Chris
says nothing and doesn’t take his eyes off the TV.

“So
where are all these girls you went on about?”

He
finally pauses the game and glares at me, his feathered brown hair whipping
across his flushed face. “Gone! They got tired of waiting.”

I
frown. “Well, I got more condoms. Here.” I toss a few packets from the box at
him and they land on his lap. Sometimes it’s fun messing with him like that.

He
growls, brushes them away, and resumes his game. “You’re such an ass, you know
that?”

“Hey,
I’m just paying you back for the shit you pulled earlier. Going into my room
without permission and using up all my condoms like that. What the fuck is
wrong with you?”

“I
have needs, you know.”

I
roll my eyes. “So do I.”

“Whatever,
man. I know and you know those weren’t getting used. Last time you had a girl
was, what, two months ago? And that lasted all of, what, half a day?”

“Felicia?”
I curl my lip. “Good fucking riddance. She was begging to go down on me within
five minutes of meeting me.”

Chris
shakes his head. “Dude, I still can’t believe you rejected her over that. She
had a perfect ass, perfect tits … she was gorgeous!”

“Gorgeous,
but not my type. Anyway …" I pin him with a glare. “We going to my brother’s
gig or what?”

Chris
pauses the game again and looks back with a raised eyebrow. “What? You still
wanna go? It’s almost midnight, and I gotta get ready. By the time we get down
there it’ll almost be closing time.”

I
shrug and head for the stairs. “Well, if nothing else, I can see my brother
again. Look, if you don’t wanna go, that’s cool.”

“Ehh
…"

I
give him time to think about it while I hop in the shower, shave, and go
through my closet for some decent club wear—a gray button-down shirt, black
pants, and some matching shoes. Returning to the living room, I find Chris
still on the couch in his T-shirt and boxers. There’s a ticket on the arm of
the couch with a sticky note with my name written on it. Frowning, I swipe it
and head to the kitchen. Guess he made his decision.

“Later,
man,” Chris calls as I grab my motorcycle jacket off the back of one of the
kitchen chairs.

 

* * *

 

Downtown Seattle, at Club 88, cars are parked everywhere,
including in the designated overflow lot. I glimpse the hood of Kevin’s black
hatchback sports car, which is parked behind the building. It’s great to see
that Big Bro has a full crowd tonight. I park in a space far too small for a
car, but perfect for my bike. I take off my gear, set it atop the bike seat,
and smooth out my clothes. I don’t know why I got this dressed up when I only
intend to see my brother. I haven’t seen him in a couple of months.

Approaching
the entrance, I hear Kevin’s house music thumping. I show my ticket and
driver’s license to the bouncer standing outside, and he lets me in. Strobe
lights and fog welcome me as I enter. The place is packed. People are dancing
amid the swirling, sparkling lights of mirror balls. Off to one side is a bar
with hot chicks in skimpy outfits serving drinks. I look beyond the dance floor
to the stage, where Kevin is manning his deejay station. He has a pair of thick
headphones around his neck, and he’s busily working the upbeat house tunes,
spinning vinyls like the pro he is. He’s one of the few deejays around these days
who still works in vinyl.

As
I watch my brother do his thing, dancers bump and jostle me. Some apologize,
while others are completely oblivious. I’m not mad; it’s a club, after all, and
I’m not in the mood to start a fight.

I
head to the bar and order a rum ’n Coke. Drink in hand, I weave through the
crowd and find a vacant seat on a white couch against the wall. The couch faces
the stage, giving me a pretty good view of Kevin. I take a long sip of my drink
and bob my head to the music.

From
the corner of my eye, I see a group of girls start to meander toward me. I
don’t acknowledge them. One of them, however, gets bold and walks by me,
bumping my leg with hers, probably deliberately. She’s dressed in a short,
skintight, cherry-red dress with a neckline that shows off every bit of her big
tits. I’m sure if Chris were here, he’d be all over her.

Though
Red is still near, I casually swirl my drink as I watch the stage. She finally
plops down next to me on the couch. She smells sweet, like roses. But while she
looks and smells good, I’m not interested.

Red
crosses her legs, and the bottom of the dress hikes up her thigh about five
more inches. “What are you drinking?” she asks.

I
take another sip, pretending to be oblivious to her bait. “Rum ’n Coke.”

She
leans over like she’s about to whisper in my ear, but I can tell it’s really to
show off her goods.

And
I can’t help but look.
Are those even
real?

“You
should do a boilermaker,” she says.

“Naw,
I gotta drive tonight.”

Nearby,
Red’s group of girlfriends giggle and talk to each other, all the while taking
turns looking in my direction.

“Can
I help you?” I say to her, annoyed.

“Well,
I was going to ask
you
that.” She
winks.

I
am so ready to blow her off, but then I think about Chris. I hate to say it,
but I think this girl would be perfect for him. She would surely get him out of
his funk. I down the rest of my drink. “Give me your number, and I’ll let you
know.”

Red
gives me one of those satisfied kinds of looks. I’m sure she’s probably bagged
plenty of guys this way. She scribbles her number down on an unused napkin,
then her name beneath it—Adrienne. She has nice handwriting. Might actually be
a smart girl under that painted-on dress. Chris could certainly use one of
those types for a change.

Smiling,
I fold up the napkin and stuff it in my pocket. “Thanks.”

Red—Adrienne—is
still gawking. “You’re going to call, right?”

“Yeah,
sure.”

The
music fades to silence, and the crowd cheers. I check the time on my
phone—almost two a.m. Adrienne hops up from the couch and rushes to her
friends. I get up as well and head to the stage, snaking my way through the sea
of people in hopes of losing Adrienne for good.

The
club’s emcee comes out on stage. “Last call for alcohol, folks! Next Wednesday
we’ll be having DJ Trype on the ones and twos for an old school trip-hop night.
As always, ladies, dress to impress!”

Much
of the dance floor crowd thins as people head to the bar to get their last
drinks. I hop up on stage and make my way to Kevin, who’s packing away his
vinyls and equipment.

“Hey,
what’s up, man?” I pat him on the shoulder.

He
flinches and starts, looks up at me, and then beams. “Yo, Dom!” He sets down
his records, and we do our secret handshake followed by a shoulder bump. “I
thought
that was you I saw out there in
the crowd.”

Other
than my uncle Adam, Kevin’s the only family I’m really close to. He’s the only
one who truly understands the shit I went through.

Then,
as now, he’s the only one I ever trusted.

We
break off the hug. “What’s going on, man?” Kevin asks.

“Nothing
much. Working like a motherfucker.” Without even asking, I begin helping him
pack up his equipment. I’m the only one he ever allowed to touch his stuff. All
along, he trusted me as much as I did him. He’s always there for me to talk to.

“Yeah,
I hear that.” Kevin sets his sleeved vinyls in metal crates. “Sorry I haven’t
called lately. I’ve been busy with a bunch of shit for the past month.”

I
unplug a wire from the main mixer and begin wrapping it in a neat coil. “What
happened?”

“My
girlfriend fucking backstabbed me. Because of her, I’m about to get evicted
from my apartment.”


What
?”

“I
got called to do a gig to fill in for one of the DJs that got sick, and I let
my then-girlfriend, Justine, stay at my apartment. Rent was due, but the
landlord had gone out to lunch by the time I had to leave, so I gave the money
to Justine to give to him when he got back. She left with my money and never
came back. Now the damn landlord has charged me
double
for being late. It’s utter bullshit. I owe the landlord
almost two thousand dollars now! If I can’t pay up in four days, I’m gonna get
evicted.”

Frowning,
I set the coiled cord in a milk crate with the others. I hate seeing Kevin so
miserable. “Damn. That’s messed up, bro. Anything I can do to help?”

Kevin
shakes his head. “Naw, I’m straight. I think after tonight’s gig, I’ll finally
have enough to pay the bastard. This whole ordeal has been such a fucking pain.
Here’s a tip, li’l bro. Don’t get famous, else the crazy gold-digging
bitches’ll come crawling outta the cracks like roaches. They think I’m banking
just ’cause I’m supposedly a “famous deejay” or some shit. Well newsflash! I
make just enough to pay the bills and not much else.

“I’m
not nearly as ‘famous’ as some of the guys down in Cali or over on the East
Coast. Hell, there’s even international sensations out there. I’m a nobody
compared to them. What the fuck did I ever do to deserve this?”

“Don’t
worry about it, man,” I say. “You know I got your back.”

Kevin
gives me a small smile. “Yeah, yeah, I know. So, who was that girl you were
talking to?”

I
snort. “What girl? I came here to see you.”

“Kinda
hard to miss T and A dressed in red.” He laughs.

I
punch him in the shoulder. “She wasn’t my date. But I
do
have a date tomorrow—or should I say, later tonight. Her name’s
Denise. And man, is she amazing! Smart, smells like pears, dresses so sexy …"

Kevin
whistles. “That’s great, man! How long have you two been dating?”

“I
just met her. But I’m a little scared of what might happen if she were to ever
find out about—”

“Hey.”
Kevin puts a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t let that shit get in the way of your
own happiness. That’s exactly what
he
would have wanted. Remember that. Don’t let that sick motherfucker get into
your head.”

Biting
down on my bottom lip, I exhale through my nose. Kevin’s right, of course. But
sometimes, some nights, I can’t control that demon in my head. “I just … You
know how sensitive some girls can be. What if she gets grossed out by that
shit?”

“Dammit,
Dom. What did I just say? You’re a damn good man, and the honeys would kill to
have someone like you. You’re nothing like Pops, and never will be. Get that
shit straight right now.”

I
stuff the headphones and microphones into a duffel bag and zip it closed.

“Remember
what Uncle Adam said to you at that dinner for your high school graduation?
‘You have to keep moving through the dark tunnels of life no matter what.
Because at the end of that tunnel, you’ll eventually find light.’”

I
smile. “Yeah, I know, man. I try every day.”

Finished
packing, I help Kevin carry the stuff out to his car. Kevin arranges the
equipment in the cramped backseat and trunk so that everything fits perfectly.
Satisfied, he hops in the driver’s side and starts up the car. He cranks down
the window and asks, “You gonna be around next week?”

“Should
be. Got an electromagnetics test next Friday, so I’ll be studying for that.”

Kevin
nods. “Well, we’ll have to catch up on things before then.”

I
look at him a little more seriously. “Have you decided whether or not you’re
gonna finish school next semester?”

“No
idea.” He shrugs. “I’m just trying to worry about my current shit first. Need
to get that straight before I worry about school.”

I
sigh but don’t press the issue. It bothers me that he’s only seven credits away
from graduating but isn’t following through. “All right. But don’t let me
graduate before you.”

Kevin
ignores me. “I’ll call you later, li’l bro. Take it easy.” He plugs his music
player into his sound system and cranks up the volume. Familiar house music
blasts through the speakers, making his entire car vibrate.

“You
too,” I say, though he probably can’t hear me. I watch him drive off, his tires
screeching around a corner. Even when he’s out of sight, I can hear the deep,
thumping bass.

 

 

Chapter 5

 

I wake up refreshed, after having a dream about
Denise. I grab a set of clothes from the closet and head downstairs to the
shower. I don’t hear the TV on in the living room and wonder if Chris is still
sulking in his room. He must be miserable, not having been able to sleep with a
girl for a change—and on a Friday night, even. Serves him right for messing
with me.

Leaving
the bathroom, clean and dressed, I discover Chris lazing around on the couch in
his T-shirt and boxers, munching on cereal while he watches Saturday morning cartoons.

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