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She listens, giggling, and climbs on his cock as Celine screeches in outrage.
“And the shows over,” I state and turn on my seat, Smokey following suit as the front door slams. I stop the recording, sending it to my girl because, hey, why not….
“She just needs some time, brother,” he says, seeing what I’ve just done.
I shake my head and admit, “I thought she would have called after reading some of the letters, and I know she read some because you won’t leave me the fuck alone. Fuck, even after speaking to her yesterday, she’s gone back to ignoring me.”
He turns his body toward me, and I tilt my head his way as he says bluntly, “Alright, for nearly a year, she thought you lied to her, right?” I nod. “She thought you wanted Prue; watched her parade around in your cut. She thought you claimed another woman and used her to have what you shouldn’t have, correct?”
I growl, hating that I put those thoughts in her head, not having the time to explain myself, knowing I couldn’t over the phone. I bark, “What’s your point, brother?”
He gives me a sad smile, “My point, Lucas, is that right now, she’s gone from thinking you were a lying piece of shit, purposely hurting her, to her reading your pain. She thought you’ve been with Prue the whole time she’s been gone, only to realize you spent the time nearly fucking killing yourself because you couldn’t cope with the loss of her, while us fucking brothers have been blind. She’s found out that you hurt her to save her. Her head is a mess, Lucas, a big fucking mess of emotions that she needs to dissect. She’s gone from hating you to hating herself for hurting you.”
My eyes tear up, and I look away from him to the empty shot glass. I shake my head, whispering, “I don’t want her to hate herself. I just want her home.”
He grips my shoulder and rasps, “Right now, she’s not going to come home, brother; she’s not going to answer your calls, especially while Prue is still around. Seeing her wear your cut and now knowing why, she’ll want to hand herself in to the Feds. So, instead, she’s going to finish the program, and she’s going to read every single letter, before she decides whether she’s going to continue to run, or grab hold of you and never let go.”
I squeeze my eyes tight, trying to control the urge to cry like a pussy, and ask, “Since when did you become so insightful?”
He chuckles. “Since Liv, obviously. Before her, I was a fucking idiot.”
I nod with a chuckle as my phone goes off, and I sigh, thinking it’s probably Prue again. She left after Quinn got shot, claiming to not feel safe here right now, and has been demanding for me to go see her. It’s bad enough she’s all over me when she’s here in front of the brothers, like fuck am I going to be alone with her; I might end up killing the bitch.
I grab my phone from my pocket, and seeing the name, my heart pounds. Smokey leans over and grins wide, reading her words.
My Pixie: Great, now I have to bleach my eyes!
My phone goes off again, and I bite my bottom lip.
My Pixie: Just give me some time to figure my head out.
“How much time, though?” I ask out loud, and Smokey grips the back of my neck in support as my dad sits next to me on the other side.
I raise a brow at him; I thought he had a date planned with Shell.
He shakes his head. “Violet gave Shelly several prank ideas. I ran before she could get me, only to come in here and see my fucking father-in-law getting fucked by Crystal.” I chuckle but soon groan at his next words, “By the way, I’m pretty sure Shelly’s hidden paint bombs in your old room and some in your house.”
“Fuck…” I mutter as Smokey bangs his head on the bar.
He states, “We’re all fucking doomed.”
I nod, spinning my empty shot glass, and my father pats my back, then murmurs, “I spoke to Tech. He’s been given a new lead. He says it could take a few months; he doesn’t want to go in guns blazing. Apparently, he thinks he knows where the footage is being kept, but there’s always someone there, and he wants to do some surveillance first.”
I nod, happy that we’re close. "And if Kennedy decides to stay in New York, you know what I’m going to do, right?”
My dad flinches as Smokey groans. “Brother, please….”
I shake my head. “You read some of those letters, Smoke, and Dad experienced it. I need her. I have always needed her.”
My dad sighs as Smokey drops his head. I won’t lie to them. Wherever Kennedy decides to stay after we find the footage, I’ll be there with her.
“Who died?” Breaker asks, and I look up to see him behind the bar, grabbing a bottled water.
“How’s Quinny?” I ask, ignoring his question.
He smiles. “Good, she’s sleeping, though I do still need to spank her ass for getting shot.”
I smirk. “It's not nice when the love of your life puts herself in danger for you, is it?”
