Page 9 of Crusher

I need a fucking drink.

***

I down the fifth shot before slamming the shot glass onto the bar, and I eye the team all celebrating, cheering for the girls stripping on stage. I’m fucking drowning my sorrows while ignoring my phone that is burning a hole in my pocket.

I’ve had several missed calls from my mom, Dad, Alexiana, and Linc, but I’ve ignored them all.

He pushed me aside, like I meant fucking nothing, like I’m now suddenly the spare.

I scoff, the selfish fucking prick, the dickhead.

I shake my head before shoving the shot glass away, and I stumble to my feet and make my way over to the toilets, needing to pee, and maybe I need to head home, speak to my…

“Hey, Crusher,” I hear husked, and I blink, seeing two Roxy’s, and I choke, “S-since when is there t-two of-of you…?”

She giggles as she walks over to me, then pushes me up against the wall, and I blink again, not able to form my thoughts. My pain and anger take focus, even as she cups my junk and squeezes. Instead of pushing her away, like I should, to go home, I groan, the need to feel wanted pulling me.

Years I never felt good enough, I never felt like my dad fucking wanted me.

Roxy slams her lips against mine, which feel so fucking wrong, but my drunk mind can’t comprehend what I’m doing. I kiss her back harder, shoving my tongue into her mouth as I cup her bare breast, and she moans into my mouth as I peel the nipple pastie off. I pull on it, causing her to rub up against me but just as her hands go to my jeans, I finally snap out of it and I shove her away, gasping.

Fuck, what the fuck did I just do?

My drunken haze clears as Roxy smirks, and I shove away from her before stumbling out of the hallway, her cackling, “I knew you didn’t love that trailer trash,” following me, and my eyes sting.

What the fuck did I do?

***

I stare at the photo of Alexiana and me, her smile wide as she leans against my front, my arms wrapped around her from behind, and my tears fall.

I haven’t slept, and I know I smell like shit, but I can’t fucking breathe.

Eighteen, that is how many times my girl tried calling me last night, worried, and like a jackass, I’ve ignored all of them.

I cheated on her.

I allowed my father’s fucked up mind and cheating ways to get to me, and I cheated on my fucking heart.

I need to tell her because if I don’t, Roxy will, and I know this will break her trust, fuck, she’ll try and leave me. I know she will, her past trauma, what her mom did, still affecting her to this day, but I can’t lose her.

I made a mistake…

Wiping my eyes, I shove away from the desk in my room at the club, a room I’ll now be keeping on the bottom floor instead of moving to the officer bedrooms in a few years. I storm out, slamming the door behind me with my heart in my throat.

“Where on earth have you been?” Mom snaps, “Alex rang four times looking for you!”

I ignore her, knowing if I stop, I’ll oust Dad, and she doesn’t deserve that, but the jackass speaks up like he didn’t shove me aside and tear our family apart, and demands, “Boy, you will stop and speak to your mother when she talks to you,” causing the club to quiet, and I slowly turn towards him, looking at him with so much hate that he flinches.

“You really want me to stop and speak to her, Killer?” I ask coldly, and he flinches again, then rasps, “Son, why don’t we go for a ride, and we can stop somewhere and talk about everything?”

“What’s going on?” Mom asks, “And why would you call your father by his road name like that?”

Dad's eyes plead, and I curl my lip and answer her, “Probably because I’m just the spare now, right, Dad? You know, after ruining my childhood, ingraining it in me that I’ll fuck up your role if I don’t do exactly as you say?”

He flinches again, and I look at Mom and announce in front of everyone, “Dad fucked Candice Garcia, the local hooker, right before you two got married, Linc Garcia, my best fucking friend is his son. Dad has declared, not giving a shit about your feelings or mine, or the fact he has micromanaged my fucking life, that Linc who I had just convinced to become a prospect, will be taking my place,” Mom’s tears fall and I look at Dad who is shaking and instead of comforting his wife, he takes a step forward and demands, “Get to my office now,” and I chuckle, “Go fuck yourself,” just as Mom chokes, “You cheated on me?”

Dad flinches again as he finally looks at Mom, and I turn and storm out.