Page 7

Cody

I was driving home after a long morning of running errands for Mom. She was planning a big dinner for Rafael, the one she hadn’t had time to prepare the day before. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t trying to avoid him. From the moment I woke up, his presence felt like a physical force snaking through the house. The spicy, woody scent of his stupid cologne had already seeped into the fibers of the furniture, and the memory of his hand around my neck made it hard to breathe. He was inescapable. I cursed myself for letting him get the best of me the night before. What the hell was wrong with me? Rafael was the kind of guy I could drop in a heartbeat on the ice, so why did I let him put his hands on me like that? I couldn’t wait to get back at him. Rafael Sinclair would rue the day he ever met me.

My phone was synced to the car speakers to talk to Aunt Sue.

“He did what?” I was stopped at a light, and her yelling was so loud that the people in the car to my left gave me a look. I waved an apology and rolled up the window.

“He just chugged it, Aunt Sue.” Sue wasn’t actually my aunt. Sue was Mom’s best friend, and I just called her Aunt Sue as a term of endearment. After Mom and I moved into Sue’s basement, she became my confidante. My Mom didn’t have the bandwidth to deal with everything on her plate, so I often talked to Aunt Sue when trivial things, like an asshole stepbrother, were bothering me. She was the brassiest woman I’d ever met. She had been married four times and owned a thriving hair salon; her client list was massive. Her voice was deep and raspy because she smoked two packs of Virginia Slims daily. Why she didn’t just smoke a normal-sized cigarette, I’ll never know. Nothing fazed her, and she treated my Mom like a sister. Needless to say, she was one of my favorite people on the planet.

She wheezed a deep cough before saying, “What a goddamn nightmare. Jill’s gonna flip.”

I shook my head, as if she could see me. “No, you can’t tell Mom. She can’t know any of this has happened.” I wasn’t about to tell Aunt Sue that Rafael attacked me. Forget telling my Mom, Sue would come to our house and cut off Rafael’s balls. Nobody could know we fought in the car.

“How in the hell could they not tell that he was smashed at the dinner table? Are they that oblivious?” she asked.

“It was so weird. He seemed totally fine at dinner. He held it together completely.”

To say that I was grateful that he hadn’t turned last night’s dinner into a disaster of epic proportions would be the understatement of the century. I’d never held my body more tightly in my life. Rafael looked shockingly okay. Nobody should look that normal after chugging vodka the way he had during the car ride.

I hated drinking. My Dad was a drunk, and I knew firsthand that alcohol ruined lives. I had no desire ever to have a drop of that stuff touch my lips. Rafael had to be addicted. What a waste of a life. Why would anyone enjoy putting themselves through that and spending the next day in bed? It wasn’t like he got smashed and went to a party. He just sat with us and ate fucking Chinese food. Who needs to get totaled for that?

Someone fucked up, that’s who. Rafael was definitely fucked up. Fucked up in a way I hadn’t realized at the wedding. I thought he was just an asshole, but I saw something else in the car. Yes, he was a tremendous asshole, but he was also sad. He looked so wounded after seeing Mattie’s picture.

Maybe I’d care if he didn’t act like such a bastard.

There was a noticeable pause on Aunt Sue’s end, which I knew meant she was taking a big drag of her cigarette. “Sooner or later, this will be a problem, Cody. Jill and Hank are going to find out eventually.”

Every fiber of my being wanted to tell Mom everything, but I knew it wasn’t the right time. Rafael had just arrived, and Hank was already shaken by how quickly things transpired yesterday. Hank was my Mom’s rock now, and when he was on edge, she was too. I couldn’t be the one to say anything. Rafael was bound to fuck up eventually, so I decided to let him do the honors of revealing his drinking problem to Hank and Mom.

“Please don’t say anything. You know how Mom gets. I’m just venting, you know?”

“I know, honey, and I want you to. Don’t ever hide anything from me. You couldn’t anyway. You know, I always figure it out eventually.”

I had to laugh at that. Aunt Sue always did figure it out. No matter the issue, she’d manage to guess through nonverbal cues or by needling it out of me. “I know. I appreciate you.”

“Likewise, baby. You keep me posted, and don’t let that little asshole push you around. You’re better than he is, Cody. It doesn’t matter how rich he was growing up or the fancy schools he attended along the way. You are better. Period.”

She always knew what to say to help me through it. I felt so wholly inadequate next to Rafael, especially after he overpowered me in the car. God, I hated him. “Thanks, Aunt Sue. I’m pulling up now.”

“Love you, baby!”

I pulled into the driveway and, to my utter dismay, saw Rafael wearing his blades and holding a hockey stick. Please, God, can I just have a moment?

I parked the car and balanced the paper bags filled with Mom’s supplies as I made my way to the garage.

“What’s up, baby bro!” He called out to me.

I swear I’m going to deck him right here on the driveway. With my eyes locked on the door, I took deep breaths to stop myself from dropping the bags and lunging at him. “Leave me alone. I’m busy,” I said.

Rafael huffed a laugh, then said, “Oh, testy, aren’t we? Still pissed that I whooped your ass in the car yesterday?”

I stopped dead in my tracks. The fury inside burned with an intensity that threatened to ignite the paper bags in my arms. “If we weren’t in that car, I would have kicked your ass.”

He nodded and bit his lower lip. “Yeah? You think so? How ‘bout round two? Get your stick, and let’s see who’s really top dog.”

I quirked a brow at how lame he was being. I really expected better from someone like him. I set the bags on the car’s hood and quipped, “Top dog? Is that the lame-ass lingo they use in Greenwich?”

He didn’t like that. His scowl consumed his whole face. “Get your stick, Cody. We’re doing this.”

“All right, big bro. You’re so eager to get your hands on me again. What’s that about?”

Rafael rolled over to me and stopped with merely an inch separating our noses. “I guess I just like seeing you squirm, you little prick.”

I didn’t back down. I looked him dead in the eyes and snarled, “We’ll see who squirms this time, you fucking pussy.”

His tongue swiped over his lower lip, and he smiled. “Where’d you get such a dirty mouth, Goldilocks?”

The heat of his body enveloped me like a plume of steam. My urge to tackle that asshole, grab a fistful of his hair, and pummel his face was palpable. “I’ve lived in places that would make you piss your pants, rich boy.”

Rafael circled me as his cackle bounced off the garage walls. “Not so poor anymore, though. Now that Hank’s footing the bill, you’re eating high on the hog, right? Just don’t forget who his real son is.”

My arms made their way across my chest. So, Rafael was jealous, huh? “Is that what this is about? Are you sad that Daddy replaced you? Are you mad that he likes spending his money on me more than you?”

That one was low, and, typically, I’d never say something that vicious, but Rafael brought the venom out of me.

His whole body shuddered, and his eyes shimmered like icicles. “I fucking hate you so much.” He closed the distance between us and spat out, “I might be the black sheep to your golden boy, but you’ll always be gutter trash as far as I’m concerned.”

My hands gripped his neck as I threw him up against the wall. “I might have been poor growing up, but how happy is all that money making you? Because, to me, you look pretty fucking miserable.”

His eyes zeroed in on me, and I could hear the teeth grinding in his mouth as he clenched his jaw. He shoved me off and said, “Get your stick and meet me by the car. We’re playing at the park we passed last night. Mommy and Hank won’t want to see what I have in store for you.”

I grabbed the bags and blurted out, “All right, asshole, let’s do this. Give me five minutes to get my gear.”

“Mommy won’t give you more chores to do?” he asked.

I stopped before entering the cellar and said, “I’m sure I can squeeze in a slaughter before I have to help her cook your welcome dinner.”

“Such big talk for a good boy. We’ll see whose blood lands on the pavement. Get your shit, bitch.”

“Dick,” I threw back.

“Pussy,” he quipped, then blew me a kiss and winked.

I am going to fucking kill him.