Disruption of Desire Page 4

  I grab the tank and throw it on, along with my short jean shorts with the bottoms of the pockets showing. Connor loves it when I wear these. He says I have amazing legs, and I must say, I do have to agree with him.

  “Finish getting ready, Pipe. I’m gonna set up our Uber.” Brit heads downstairs, and I walk into the bathroom to throw my hair up in a messy bun and put some makeup on my face.

  Grabbing my boots out of the closet and heading to the stairs, I hear Brit’s loud ass mouth yelling up at me, “Hurry the fuck up, bitch. I need some dick tonight.”

  Rolling my eyes, I walk down the stairs to the kitchen. Sure as shit, Brit has two more shots of Fireball ready to go for us.

  “Hey, it’s cheaper if we drink here than at the bar. Or at least ‘til I find a guy to buy us drinks for the night.”

  I have nothing for her after that comment. Like I said, she’s a wild one. Grabbing my shot, we cheers and slam them down. Brit looks at me with that shit-eating grin on her face. “You ready to dance your ass off?”

  “Hell yeah, I am!” Grabbing my keys to lock the front door, we head out to wait for our ride.

  As we walk into Mavericks, you can already see that Brit comes here often. The guy checking IDs gives her a hug and just lets us in. We walk up to the front counter to pay the cover charge and what do you know, Brit knows the chic behind the counter, who also waves us in. Brit turns around and looks at me, hoping I’m not going to judge her on any of this.

  “What?” she says, smirking.

  “Come here much?”

  “Once or twice,” she replies, winking. Her ass starts moving with the beat of the music as we walk up to the bar to get us a drink. Brit can dance her ass off, and she knows it.

  “Hey Brit,” comes a voice from behind the bar that sounds all too familiar to me.

  I turn, and to my surprise, it’s my brother’s best friend, Frankie. I haven’t seen Frankie in such a long time. As a matter of fact, the last time I saw him, he and Zac had just come back from Iraq. Zac and Frankie did two tours together, and from their stories they’ve told me, they sure did see some crazy shit over there. Frankie was pretty messed up, having PTSD and everything else that goes with it. He looks good, looks like he is doing well, and holding a job.

  “Holy shit, Frankie, it’s been forever since I saw you! How the hell are you?”

  As I start a conversation with Frankie, Brit informs me she’s going to walk around and look for some meat to bring home. I reassure her that she isn’t bringing that meat back to my house. As she bounces off into the crowd, I turn my attention back to Frankie.

  Frankie cracks open a Bud Light and sets it in front of me. “I’ve been doing well, Piper. I’ve been working here on the weekends for extra cash, but I work for a private investigator here in town.” Wiping the condensation from my beer bottle off the bar, he asks, “How about you? I hear you and Connor finally tied the knot. Congrats!”

  “Yes, we sure did, and we bought a house a few blocks from here.” I sit on a bar stool, so my legs aren’t in the view of any of these drunk guys behind me.

  “That’s awesome, Piper. I’m so happy for you two. Have you talked to your brother lately?” He pulls a nice chilled bottle of Fireball from the well area. He knows what I like.

  “I haven’t recently. Last I talked to him, he was out in Colorado working in a weed shop. You know how he likes his weed.” I take a swallow of my beer just before I grabbing the Fireball shot Frankie poured for me.

  “Yeah, word is that Zac is getting ready to open his own store out there.” Frankie looks at me, holds his own shot glass up, and we cheers and slam back the Fireball.

  “Britney seems to be handling this ‘break’ pretty well,” Frankie muses, holding up both hands with his fingers acting like quotes. “She’s in here almost every weekend, and going home with a different guy every time. I wish Zac would come back here and straighten her ass out,” he says, grabbing me another Bud Light.

  “Yeah, she does need some straightening out. She’s a wild one, I tell you,” I sigh, taking a sip of my beer, and feeling my stomach start to twist a little bit. I’m thinking this is my last beer for the night. A bottle of wine, a few shots of Fireball, and a couple of beers. Yeah, definitely my last one.

  “So… where is Connor tonight? Is this a girl’s night only?” Frankie asks me over his shoulder as he pours a glass of Bud for the guy sitting in the stool next to me.

  “He’s at work, as always.” Immediately a frown covers my face, and I look down at the bar top, trying not to let Frankie know how upset I am about the situation. “He’s been working all the time; feels like he’s never home anymore.” I peel the label of my Bud Light bottle as I talk.

  “Well, isn’t that good? I mean, it’s more money. Plus, it gives you time alone, ya know, to write your books.” I can’t help but look at him with sadness in my eyes. He offers a small grin and says, “Be right back.” As Frankie walks down the bar to a group of guys wanting more drinks, I’m still picking at the label on my beer, thinking about how shitty tonight has turned out.

  A little while later, I hear Brit’s loud mouth screaming from the other side of the dance floor, making her way to me, a tall, thickly built, cowboy hat wearing, douche in tow.

  “Hey sis, so this is…” She looks back at him with a puzzled look on her face. “What’s your name again?” He looks at me and extends his hand out as to shake mine.

  “My name is Danny. Nice to meet ya, sugar.”

  I look at him with my nastiest resting bitch face. “I’m not your sugar, and neither is she tonight.” I grab Brit’s hand and yank her closer to me. This guy proceeds to pull Brit back toward him, snarling as he does.

  “Yeah sugar, she’s going home with me tonight.”

  “I don’t think so! Frankie!” I wave my hand to get his attention.

  “Do we have a problem here, Danny?” Frankie says, almost as if he has dealt with this asshole before.

  “Nah Frankie, no problem here.” Grumbling, the douchebag lets go of Brit and walks away, like his shit doesn’t stink.

  “What a fucking asshole!” Brit’s slurring her words and she can barely stand up.

  “Piper, let me see if they’ll let me take you guys home. It’s pretty dead in here for a Friday night anyway.” Frankie winks and offers a smile as he throws his towel onto the bar.

  “Thanks, Frankie. I think it’s time I get this chick home.” Holding Brit up with everything I have, I breathe out a sigh of frustration.

  A few minutes later, Frankie returns with keys in hand. “Alright, we’re good. Let’s get you two home.”

  Following Frankie out to his jeep, Brit stops and looks like she is about to puke.

  “Before you get in my jeep, you’d better let it out, Brit.” Frankie looks at her and smiles, but his face is anything but joking.

  “Ha ha, faked you guys out. I’m good. No puking for me,” Brit says as she laughs her way into the jeep.

  “I really appreciate this, Frankie. Helping us out with that asshole, and of course, for taking us home.” I give Frankie a big hug before we hop into the jeep.

  “No problem at all, you’re like a sister to me. Family helps family.” Cranking his jeep, Frankie starts to back up, only to hit the brakes suddenly. He looks back to see the same asshole, Danny, standing there. Danny doesn’t say a word, just stands there and nods his head. It’s kind of creepy.

  “Let’s get out of here.” Frankie throws the jeep in drive and takes off.

  Pulling up to the house a few minutes later, Frankie asks if I need any help getting Brit in the house.

  “She don’t need no help with me. I’m fucking straight. I got this, Frankie. I’m a pro!” She’s slurring and stumbling out of the jeep as she tries to explain how “pro” she is.

  “I really do appreciate it, Frankie. We need to get together sometime. Maybe I can make us all a big dinner one night, and we can reminisce about the old days.”

  “That sounds great
, Piper. I look forward to it. Now get that drunk ass friend of yours home to bed.” Frankie starts laughing loudly at Brit, and he yells out his window, “See you next weekend, Brito!” As he drives away, Brit looks at him and shoots him the finger.

  “Come on, Brit, let’s get you to bed. You are gonna have a killer hangover tomorrow.” I chuckle as we walk up to the front door.

  “Yeah, I’m totally not looking forward to it, but oh fucking well, that’s life. And to make matters worse, I’m going to bed with no dick tonight.” As I open the door, she goes stumbling into the house, and falls right onto the couch, face first. In a matter of a few seconds, she is passed out.

  I throw a blanket over top of her and kiss her forehead, getting a huge whiff of a mixture of Crown, meatballs, and Fireball. It’s enough to make any person puke, but I love her. “Good night, Brito. Love you girl.”

  As I make my way to my own bed for the night, I can’t help but wonder when Connor will be home…or if he’ll even come home at all.

  Almost three weeks after our little incident at Mavericks, Connor and I decide to host dinner at the house. Over the past few weeks, Connor hasn’t been working as much, which is good. He has been doing a lot of work on the house, like fixing some drywall that has some cracks in it from age and installing new hardwood floors in our bedroom. It appears the previous owners never put any sealant on the wood and you can really see the wear and tear in it. So, we’ve decided to rip it up and replace it.

  Connor walks into the kitchen after taking a shower, and inhales deeply. “Babe, it smells amazing in here. What are we having?”

  I open the oven so he can get a better whiff of what I have cooking in there. “I’m cooking a turkey, sautéed onions and peppers, and mashed potatoes and gravy.”

  Connor licks his lips as if he is ready to dive right into the turkey. Connor reminds me of the father from the movie A Christmas Story, where he can’t control himself around the turkey.

  “My parents should be here around five, and Frankie and Brit will be here at six. Will you make sure the bar is stocked? I bought Dad a bottle of Jack.” My dad loves his Jack and Diet Coke. Connor walks off to the bar in the sitting area, to make sure the Jack is on ice and that my Dad has his glass ready for him when he gets here.

  Pulling the turkey out of the oven and setting it on the serving plate so my Dad can carve it, there is a knock at the door and I hear my mom’s voice.

  “Honey, we’re here,” Mom says, walking through the door and toward the kitchen.

  “It smells wonderful in here, Piper.” Dad walks over to me with his arms out for a hug.

  “Thanks Daddy, I’ve been cooking all damn day.”

  “Where’s that husband of yours?” He looks around for Connor. “I need a drink after driving here, listening to your mother yap the whole way.”

  “Daddy, you live fifteen minutes away. It couldn’t have been that bad.” Dad winks at Mom, and she just shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “He’s in the living room, Daddy. Probably watching the game.” Connor tries not to miss a Flyers game if it’s on.

  As my dad walks into the living room, Mom walks over to me, sniffing the air. “Smells like you have done well, dear. If you’ve got any of Mommom’s genes in you, I know it will taste better than it smells.” Mom smiles at me; she knows I’m a damn good cook.

  “Do you want a glass of wine?” I reach for the bottle and grab two wine glasses from the cupboard.

  “Absolutely!” Mom says exaggeratedly, with her hands to her forehead. “Your father thinks I talk a lot, but it’s his damn driving. That man thinks he’s a race car driver. Scares the shit out of me every time we go somewhere.”

  Mom and I finish setting the dining room table just as Dad and Connor come walking in from the living room.

  “Babe, is there anything I can do to help?” I grin at Connor’s unspoken hint to speed this along because he’s hungry.

  “As a matter of fact, Frankie and Brit will be here any minute. Can you get drinks for everyone and put them on the table?” Connor nods, and walks off with his beer in hand.

  “Where the hell is Britney at, Piper?” Dad asks, taking a sip of his Jack and Coke, and rubbing his belly at the same time.

  “Frankie is picking her up. They should be here any minute.” I take the rest of the food into the dining room, and set it out on the table.

  “I haven’t seen Frankie in a long ass time. I heard he’s doing better.”

  Dad and Frankie have always had a good relationship. I mean, he was Zac’s best friend and combat buddy. Dad swears if it weren’t for Frankie, Zac wouldn’t have made it back home from Iraq. Zac was telling us a story one time about how they were on a patrol through some village, and they were under gunfire. Zac ran into one of the huts, and as he did, two Iraqi guys with AKs followed him in there to kill him. Frankie saw this and ran to my brother’s aid. He killed both of them before they could get to Zac. So yeah, Dad holds a special place in his heart for Frankie.

  Putting the last bit of dinner onto the table, I hear the doorbell ring. Brit and Frankie walk in, each with a bag from the grocery store.

  “Well, look at what the cat dragged in,” Connor says with a smirk on his face.

  “Hope you’re not talking about my pussy, Connor.” Brit points down at her crotch and purses her lips at him.

  “BRITNEY MICHELLE!!!” I hear from the other room, as mom comes steaming in.

  “Oh shit. Sorry, Mrs. Sterling.” She covers her mouth, knowing she fucked up…yet again.

  “For your information, Brit, I was talking about Frankie.” Reaching out to shake Frankie’s hand, Connor walks right past Brit, not even giving her a second glance. Dad walks around the corner from the kitchen and sees Frankie standing there. It’s been a long time since Dad saw him, and he always gets a little emotional when he sees Frankie.

  Reaching his hand out to my dad, Frankie smiles. “It’s been a long time, Mr. Sterling. How are you, sir?”

  “Don’t you ‘sir’ me, boy, and put that hand away.” Dad grabs Frankie’s shoulders, and looks him up and down, like he’s examining him. “Boy, you look good.” He wraps his arms around Frankie and gives him a hug like he’s a long-lost brother of his.

  “All right, Rocco, let the boy breathe. It’s so good to see you, sweetie.” Mom pulls my dad off Frankie so she can get her hugs in.

  “Is the food ready or what? I’m fucking starving!” Reaching for the wine bottle to fill her glass up, Brit pays no attention to the reunion happening in front of her.

  “Leave it to Brit to ruin a moment.” Connor grabs his beer and heads to the table.

  “Alright everyone, let’s eat some grub. Daddy, will you say the blessing for us?” I ask him as we all make our way to the table, my eyes pleading to say it quickly, before Brit can say something else inappropriate.

  My dad and Connor each take a seat at either end of the table, while my mom sits next to Dad, and me in between Connor and Brit. Mom pulls out the chair for Frankie, inviting him to sit next to her. “Thank you, Mrs. Sterling.”

  “Stop with the ‘Mrs. Sterling’ thing. Call me Mom. Everyone else here does, and you are family, son.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Frankie scoots his chair up to the table.

  “It’s so nice to have everyone here tonight for dinner. It means so much to Connor and I that you all made it tonight.” I raise my glass of red wine to toast everybody. Dad reaches for Mom’s hand and holds it tightly. We all join hands together and bow our heads as Dad begins his prayer.

  “Lord, I wanna thank you for this day. Thank you for giving me the blessings that you have. I want to say a special prayer for our son, Zac. May you keep him safe, and continue to watch over him as he builds a life for himself. I would like, Father, for you to bless this amazing meal Piper has prepared for us this evening. She is an amazing woman. Thank you again, Lord, for the many blessings you have bestowed upon our family. Amen!” Squeezing Mom’s hand at the end of the prayer, dad looks at
Frankie and smiles. The one that says, ‘thank you for being here, son. We love you.’

  Connor scoots his chair out and stands up, waving his empty beer bottle in the air. “Does anyone need a refill while I’m up?”

  Brit looks up at Connor, holding her empty glass with just her ice clinking around. “Might as well top me off, Connor-o-mac!”

  As dad starts carving the turkey up, Mom starts a conversation with Frankie.

  “So, how’ve you been, Frankie? What have you been up to?”

  Nervously Frankie looks up from his plate, “Well, Mrs. Ster-” He stops mid-sentence. “I mean, Mom. I’ve been working for a private investigator here in town for the past year. He said, with my military background, I would be perfect for the job. He hired me on the spot. Other than that, I have been working weekends as a bartender at Mavericks.”

  Mom shoots a concerned look his direction. “Mavericks, huh. I heard some shady people hang out in there.” Sipping on her wine, she peers over her glass at him.

  “Hey now, I hang out there, Mrs. S.!” Brit chides, giving her infamous duck lips to Mom.

  “Like I said; some shady people.” Mom looks at Frankie, winks, and thumbs in the direction of Brit.

  Connor returns to the table with a fresh beer and Brit’s Crown Apple.

  “Why thank you, sir,” Brit says, as she takes her glass from him and puts it right to her lips. “Ahhhh, so good!”

  I seriously don’t know how this girl can drink so much. If she were to quit drinking, she would definitely go into a detox. Shaking my head at Brit as she looks over at me, her glass to her lips, and she wiggles her eyebrows at me. All I can do is giggle at her. She is fucking crazy.

  All attention is on Brit now, and her glass hasn’t left her mouth. Looking around the table, I see we’re all staring at her as she drinks her Crown. My dad has his napkin balled up in his fist, resting it under his chin. He hates when she drinks too much but, of course, Brit doesn’t listen to anyone. Finally putting her glass back to the table, Brit looks around at us.