Page 31 of Dirty Roulette

Chapter twenty

Ryder

Adelivery order minutes before closing is a dick move.

It’s the worst sound in the entire store, especially when it's been quiet for the last thirty minutes.

I swept and mopped the damn floors, scrubbed the dishes overflowing in the sink, and even washed out the trash bins I'm sure someone vomited in. I did it all to keep Karen at bay.

“You gotta be kidding me!” She snaps.

“Oh, here we go,” I say. She is on a roll again, storming over with hands fisted at her sides.

She’s better at creating raging headaches than she is at creating a damn pizza.

The non-stop bitching is worse than the stench of our ovens smoking like we’re cooking tar.

She rips the receipt from the machine, licks her chapped lips, and grumbles.

“To hell with these people. They got a hundred-dollar order.”

“Fuck me.”

“You’re in luck. They paid with a card.” She tosses the order to the kitchen staff.

I run a hand over my eyes, lean on the counter, and throw off the stupid hat.

Everything in my head is all over the place.

Vibing with Jared and Nick this afternoon wore me out, and taking on another shift thinking I’d be good wasn’t the best decision, but Mom called earlier – bills are starting to pile up on the counter again, and I’m barely breaking even again.

She’s out of leave, so there is no buffer in order for her to keep the roof over her head. I’m not sure what else to do or how long I have until the bank wants us to foreclose on the house. My stomach is swirling with dread that the letter is coming soon.

“Can I clock out and just deliver the pizza? I’d like to call it a night.”

“As long as you don’t rat me out.” She counts the stacks of bills in her hand. “You know how the owners are about using your own vehicles.”

“You know I’m not like that. We’re cool.

” I toss her my deposit. The order doesn’t take as long as I thought, and I’m out the door fifteen minutes before twelve.

When I get into the Jeep, I light up a joint, starving for a hit – and bad.

The ache for a buzz claws at my skin. The pinch of lemon and sweetness envelopes the Jeep and burns into my lungs.

I can’t wait another second and soak as much of it in as I can.

It hits fast and eases into my veins, numbing everything.

When I check my phone. Brody sent me half a dozen messages. I haven’t had the chance to look at them, and I’d rather not deal with him. There have been a few missed calls, and his name rolls on my cell like some sixth sense told him I’m off work.

I place the cell to my ear. “What do you want?” I take in another drag. Smoke pools out of my nose as the ashes fall to the asphalt.

“You’re avoiding me.”

“I’m working. I think it can wait,” I say staring at the bar with people pooling into the front doors and others leaving.

“I wanna know where my video is,” Brody presses.

I have zero patience to deal with anyone else when the only things on my brain are sleep and Payton. “You’re going to have to give me time...”

“Time? You’ve had a month.”

“This isn’t Brittni. She isn’t one of your sleazy girls.”

Brody coughs up a sadistic laugh. It’s almost like he’s possessed by the devil. I pull my ear away from the speaker. “You’re soft, just like you were with Brittni.”

“This isn’t the same, dude. I’ve known her since I was a kid. This is beyond messed up and you know it.”

“Here, hold up.”

The phone vibrates in my hand and when I glance at what he sent me, it’s video footage of Payton stealing the booze.

Then there are a handful of small clips of Charlie and Payton playing the game, drinking from that damn bottle, taking off their tops.

It’s raw and naked, and there is nothing I can do.

He’s pulling the trigger and helping them commit social suicide.

“Payt’s hot but she’s not wife material and you’re not keeping your end of the bargain. I figured that bloody lip I gave you would’ve knocked some damn sense into you. Fuck her brains out and send it to me.”

“I’ve played this damn game with you every year, why can’t you just let this one go.”

“She’s from junkie town. You really think she belongs on the field?” He asks.

“It doesn’t matter where she comes from,” I say.

“You can’t be telling me you want more from Trash? Brittni’s not over you. Let’s patch things up, yeah?”

I’m shaking my head, feeling the blood on my lip that I split open with my teeth. “Stop. Calling her that. My teammate slept with my girlfriend. I can’t let that slide, dude.”

“We were drunk.” Brody sighs on the other end.

“That doesn’t change anything.”

“She came onto me. What was I supposed to do?” He asks.

“Say no!”

“Look,” he pauses and takes a breath. “I wanted to date Charlie, but she’s manipulating.

She was always with some other dude, then accused me of sleeping around.

Your sister messed with my head. I ain’t the bad guy here.

She broke up with me again that night. Brittni was all pissed off at you – so yeah, I slept with her.

She said you two weren’t together. It was a dumb choice. ”

“You didn’t even bother to ask if we ended things. I can’t put that past either of you.”

“Dude, your trailer trash crush is gonna burn you in the end. Film yourself pounding her. That’s all you gotta do.”

“If I want to be with Payton, there is nothing you can do that will stop me. You’ll get your Goddamn video when I’m ready to make it.

” I hang up the phone and toss it onto the passenger seat.

First, it’s Payton’s remark on a damn picture, her sobbing on the phone when I try to figure out her deal – now Brody is on my nuts.

God’s watched me make this bed, and I need to lie in it because he’s not coming off his throne to help.

I pull the stack of tips out of my back pocket. It’s enough to finish covering the car payment and utilities, and I can start tackling the mortgage.

The drive isn’t far, and I’m there right at midnight, knocking on the door to freedom. When it opens, Charlie stands there, her eyes widen. “No way. I thought you were off tonight?”

I tilt my head back with a laugh. “You gotta be kidding.”

She flashes me a lopsided grin. “If you wanna come in, you gotta promise not to punch Noah.”

“You know it’s a dick move to order pizza two minutes before closing.”

“Hey, at least we tipped you.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m coming in.” With a shoulder, I push the door open and see a group of punks with long hair and tattoos huddling in the kitchen. They’re from a completely different world, and I’m not someone who fits into this muse of worshiping Satan himself.

“Where do you want them?”

“The table is fine.” I throw the strap over my head and the five pizzas with a mountain of wings lands in front of her.

“Where’s Payton?” I dip my hands into my front pockets with my thumbs hanging out.

“You wouldn’t even tell me why she was crying earlier. Why should I tell you?”

I shrug. “I wanna make sure she’s okay.”

Charlie leans against the table and cracks open a sweaty beer. “What the hell is up with you two?” She takes a sip, then throws open the pizza box.

“She needs to be the one who tells you. I promised. Now, where is she?”

“You’re a shitty brother.” Charlie lifts a gigantic slice of pizza, with the thick cheese melting off. She points a finger out the patio door. I walk across the carpet and step outside into the cool night air where it’s dark.

There’s a faint hum of jets from the hot tub filled with a group of people lounging.

They drink and laugh. Stepping closer, Payton is chugging something in a red cup.

Some dude with a man bun, skinnier than a twig has his arm over her shoulder, and my heart tanks.

When she sees me standing right in front of her, the smile washes off her face within seconds.

“You ordered pizza?” I feel my eyebrows lift in annoyance.

“Ryder...”

“Je t'ai trouvé.” Found you.

“Hey, that’s the guy from the party.” The man bun poser points a finger at me with a beer in hand. “Small world! You’re a delivery boy?”

“Hi, Payton...” My blood pumps into my heart and I’m not sure if I can handle her getting cozy with another guy. “Can we talk?” I’m fuming in the face, wanting to rip the guy off her.

“Hmmm...” She taps her fingers on the red cup.

“Can you get out? Now.”

Payton’s pained expression incinerates me from within. She stands up and climbs out of the hot tub in a skimpy bikini with her nipples nearly falling out, dripping wet from head to toe.

I grab a towel from a chair and toss it to her chest. She follows me into the house, crunching her hair dry with the towel before wrapping it around her body. She storms down the hallway and flips on a light switch in the bathroom. The door slams shut behind us, and I lock it.

“Why is his arm around you?” I ask.

“Oh? Explain why Brittni’s hands are wrapped around you every day at practice, and you don’t bother to push her off or do anything but let her touch you right in front of me!

Then you barely text me! And you post pictures online with girls wanting to lick your dick!

” She turns a heel to the door, but I step in front of her.

She likes running away, she’s been like that since a kid.

“Move!” She demands.

“Stop...” I grasp her hand and pull her over to me. Then I see the ink etched into her arms. It’s swollen and red, but I stare at the dandelions and butterflies neatly painted on her arm with it wrapped over. “You got a tattoo?”

“Don’t change the subject. I’m mad at you.”

“Well, that makes two of us then... but that’s pretty... and shouldn’t you NOT be in a hot tub and are you drinking too?”

She says nothing, but the watering in her eyes, and the red puffy cheeks stab me in the chest. “I didn’t submerge my arm... and it was lemonade. Can you please let me go?”

“Not until I know we’re fine...”

“I feel like you’ve been trying to ignore me all week.”