Page 5

5

JACK

DISAPPOINTMENT

A nother week of my life passes me by.

Then another.

Then another.

I spend my days locked up inside my home, a house made for the family I’ll never have, a house with more than enough room for just me and my dog. And I spend my nights in a blur at Club 188 – lights, music, fights, booze, girls. Except, when my sisters are working, as in, spying on me, I go to Rhinos – and that’s the lights and girls and fights times a thousand.

I spend my time in a trance of loneliness and bitterness, and I don’t even feel the desire to find my way out. I want my life to go back to what it was , back when I had Steph, back when I was a contributing member of my amazing family, but I have no energy to consciously work for it.

I can’t have Steph, and I’m too tired to work for the rest.

Instead, I distract myself with new girls and getting high.

Jenny The Psycho was contracted to stay with me for a little over a month – I mean, she was contracted indefinitely , because my family would spare no expense, but she stayed only long enough to make sure I wouldn’t die, enough time to make sure my spleen wouldn’t bleed out, and my lung repaired itself, then I kicked her out and sent her off to torture her next victim.

Then I got drunk and dreamt about Steph.

I wasn’t the drunk driver that hit us that day, but I was the driver of our car. I was Steph’s protector, and instead of paying complete attention to the road like I should have been, I was bickering with her because I wanted to go into the city for dinner and dancing, but she wanted to go home and rest.

Just like the day we met and every day after that; she’s the one who craved quiet. I was the one obnoxiously pushing her out of her comfort zone.

If I’d just said we could go home, if I’d just given in to her simple fucking request, maybe we wouldn’t have been bickering.

If I’d just said yes, maybe her last words might not have been about how much of a selfish asshole I am.

I was an asshole.

I dismissed the fact she was tired after a long week of work and training, and instead, I paid attention to my wants.

I wanted to go out. I wanted to dance. I wanted to work off my energy.

Steph had been my girl since we were teenagers, but we were hitting that seven-year point, that rough patch in most relationships – the seven year itch. Everyone says it’s normal, that couples can become complacent and selfish and that we should work together and stay strong.

In the first year of a relationship, most couples bend over backwards to make the other happy. It’s what people do.

It’s human nature.

But by that seventh year, Steph was still indulging me on most things.

Hell, I was the guy on the sides of buses. I was the guy who signed autographs. I’d become accustomed to people wanting to please me.

But I didn’t exactly return the favor as often or as selflessly.

Stopping at my front door and patting Julie… Sophie? Tracey?… on the ass, I stand in the doorway and watch her do the walk of shame along my eighty-foot-long driveway, past my family, through the entire estate, and to the double iron gates.

Mini skirt, messy hair, shoes in her hand, I wait until she reaches the gates, and when she turns back, I slap my hand over the security screen by my door and buzz them open.

I should feel guilty for making her do that… but I’m a selfish asshole.

As soon as she slides into the waiting cab and the door closes, I buzz the gates closed and turn back into my house. Not until my door slams closed does Annie come out of hiding to finally say good morning.

It’s like Annie’s my jealous wife; she doesn’t like my female visitors, and she’s not too shy to let me know. She refuses to talk to me while any girl is here, and she definitely doesn’t talk to the girls .

She doesn’t have a problem with all girls; she likes my sisters and nieces just fine. It’s just the flowery smelling chicks that come and go that she has a problem with.

She stops across the room and glares.

I glare back.

Her brows pull low, and taking a deep breath, she lets it out on a noisy ‘harrumph!’

My eyes narrow at her attitude. “Don’t look at me like that, jerk.”

She snorts, literally snorts her disappointment, then turns her ass in my face and walks to the kitchen to be fed.

I roll my eyes, but following, I take out some of the meat, gravy, and rice mix I made up a few days ago, and spoon it into her silver bowl.

Shooting one final filthy glare, one that shouts she’s unhappy with my behavior and decision making, Annie tucks into her food while I wander to my coffee maker and start it up.

My sister instilled many values in me over the years. Several of them – my manners and good behavior – seem to be lost lately, but my love of coffee remains. I’ve been addicted to this shit since I was fifteen years old. Three or four mugs of coffee before my shower, then another couple mugs before the gym.

Then I spend half my morning pissing, but it’s totally worth it.

A knock at the door has my ferocious guard dog lying down and dropping her face into the bowl to eat.

She’s super angry at me.

Looking toward the clock on the oven, I close one eye and read 11:11. It’s Sunday, which means one of my brothers or sisters are coming over to lecture me on my poor life choices.

Awesome.

Rolling my eyes and wandering toward the door, I wonder which of my siblings has a problem today. Or perhaps it’s my niece, Evie. My first niece, eleven years old, her sass and penchant for troublemaking speaks to me on a soul-deep level.

She’s me, but a female version.

She has my temper, and she has my smartass streak, and though we’re not blood related at all, we get each other, and are often each other’s bail-out when we’re in trouble.

Though our types of trouble are wildly different.

She helps me out of girl trouble; parading around my house and pretending to be my kid to get rid of a clinger, or just flat out showing her crazy and sending weak women packing .

And I buy her whatever snacks she ever asks for, and provide a solid alibi whenever she picks on her younger cousins and sisters.

Her and Bean – Lucy to the rest of the world – might be the biggest trouble makers I’ve ever met. Cousins, three years apart, they have a constant rivalry going.

Put them in an octagon together, and they’ll probably kill each other. Put them in an octagon versus some other poor soul, and they’ll own them.

No one picks on them except each other. Anyone else is just asking for a slow and painful death.

Swinging the front door open, I roll my eyes at Bobby’s feral glare. “God. What, B? It’s too early for that face. If you’re not careful, the wind will change and my sister will dump your ass for being so ugly.”

When I turn to walk away, Bobby grabs my shoulder and spins me back. The second our eyes meet again, his solid fist slams down over my jaw and sets bells off in my brain.

Muscle memory has my arms coming up instantly, and my feet – drugged, drunk, exhausted – still snap into fight stance. “What the fuck?”

“Where were you this morning?”

“In bed! Where the fuck do you think I was?”

“I know where you weren’t , asshole! You weren’t at my daughter’s birthday party!”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

“What was so important that you missed Em’s party?”

I shrug and adopt the only defense I have; arrogance. Because I’m a selfish asshole. “Sorry, got busy, I guess.”

Bobby’s nostrils flare only a second before his fist strikes out.

I see it coming this time, but I don’t stop it. I deserve it.

“You’re never too busy for family, Jack. Never!” He looks at me the way he never did before this year. “Get your filthy ass in the shower. Wash your latest slut off. Then go and apologize to my daughter. Apologize to your sister while you’re at it.”

Storming back off my porch and stomping down my stairs in an air of fucking rage, Bobby leaves my yard and moves back toward his – to the pink streamers and party balloons I would’ve noticed if I wasn’t such a selfish asshole.

Fuck.

Since I woke up in the hospital, brought back to this world without my permission, back to a world without Steph in it, I’ve been so busy hating everyone that my siblings’ initial sympathy and help has turned to fed-up impatience .

And I can’t even blame them.

They were by my side every single day. They helped speed along my discharge, then got me back into my own home when I demanded it. They helped me attend Steph’s funeral when I could barely walk. My sister literally pushed my wheelchair when I was too weak to stand, then she helped me home again, even after I’d made a fool of myself.

She waited on me hand and foot, even though she had three small children at home, and when she couldn’t, my other sisters stepped up.

Where Jenny The Bitch couldn’t hold my weight, my brothers did it instead… even in the shower.

The same man that just cold-cocked me has seen me at my most vulnerable, and this is how I repay him.

Because I’m a selfish asshole.

In and out of the shower in a matter of minutes, I dart across the yard and sweep my niece into my arms with an aching jaw and a heart of lead.

The adults glare. They stand by the almost empty food table, clearing dishes and hating my guts, but Emma – who looks just like her mommy – giggles and wraps her still chubby arms around my neck like I’m the prodigal son returned.

I might be bitter at the world, but the kids don’t understand all that. They just see Uncle Jack, and they bring me back to happiness, every single time.

Jon and Tink’s twin boys race around my feet, and the older kids try to tackle me and pull me to the grass. Evie tries – almost successfully – to bring me down, because rolling in the grass is what Uncle Jack is best at.

Ignoring her cousins, Emma’s small hands frame my face, and her brows pull low in a frown. “You’re late, Uncle Jack.”

I kiss her nose. “I’m sorry, baby. Uncle Jack is sorry. I…” Forgot.

Because I’m an asshole.

“You missed my cake. It was a mermaid.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Ask your mommy and daddy to come over to my house this week. Any day, your choice, and I’ll get you any cake you want. I promise.”

“Can’t buy her, Uncle Jack.” Tink walks by and slams her bony hand into my shoulder. “She doesn’t want your money, kid. She wanted you here for the first cake. She made her wish – it was for you.”

Break my fuckin’ heart!

Looking back into Emma’s disappointed eyes, I want to weep for hurting my little girl. “I’m sorry, Em. I really, really am. I promise to make it up to you. ”

“Uncle Beebee’s so mad at you,” Evie teases. “And Biggie, too. They said they’re gonna kick your ass. What you did was pretty bad.”

“Shut up, Bug. If you’re not on my side, then you’re the enemy. And don’t say ass.”

She tsks quietly. “Can’t say shut up. Mom will hit you.”

“Your mom doesn’t scare me–”

A fresh punch slams down on my shoulder as Tina wanders by. “Don’t say shut up, Jack. Especially don’t say it to my daughter. I’ll cut you, jerk.”

Jesus, if I wasn’t inducted into this crazy family when I was young enough to grow and adapt, I might actually run away scared.

This is the family where everyone solves their issues with violence. You piss the girls off, they hit you. You piss the guys off, they hit you. The girls piss me off, they still find a way to hit me.

I honestly don’t understand what drew Steph in, and I especially don’t understand why she stayed. She was too quiet for this group, too placid for their antics. But for some reason, somehow, she stuck around and cruised under the radar.

She didn’t give shit, except to me. And she didn’t take it, except from me.

I miss her so fucking much.

“I’m sorry for saying shut up, Bug. I love you.”

She grins victoriously. “I love you, too. But you’re still in big trouble.”

I groan. “Shit, I know.”

“Shit,” Sarah, Evie’s five-year-old sister, repeats playfully. I close my eyes and flex my shoulder. The strike is coming. The pain is imminent.

Emma’s hands squeeze my face and has my single dimple popping – a dimple just like hers. Just like Kit’s. Just like my dad’s. “You’re going to be in big trouble, Jacky.”

I sigh. “I know, baby. I’m always in trouble.”

I’ve fallen into a cycle of hating myself and hating the world, and no matter what choice I make, I can’t seem to find my way out.

Steph took my goodness with her, and now all I’m left with is the shell of an asshole. And though a part of me wants to get better, a part of me wants to be better, I still find myself high and fucking a new chick twelve hours after Emma’s party.

Then six hours after that, I watch another woman leave my home, walk through my gates, and slide into a pre-paid cab.