Page 67 of Bad & Bossy

“Why now?” I scoffed, my knuckles going white as I gripped the steering wheel.

“I don’t know, man,” Bobby sighed. “It’s bullshit though. Fuck them. Clearly, they never cared about you and they certainly haven’t started now.”

“What the fuck is so much better about the two kids they’ve got now? What the fuck did I do?” I could feel the burning begin to ache at the base of my throat, the anger driving me mad. “Why wasn’t I enough?”

————

I did my absolute best to hide the anger building in me from the moment we stepped foot into the gala.

The event tonight was for struggling kids in the surrounding areas. All of the local businessmen and women would be in attendance, pledging money toward the cause or raffling off something to the attendees. Pearson Beers was raffling off a home brewing kit and a personal tour from yours truly.

“So should I get the beers, or… ?” Bobby joked, his laughter cut short when Grayson shot him a glare. “God, sorry, didn’t realize I couldn’t joke about my own issues.”

“It’s not that,” Grayson said.

“No, no, I get it,” Bobby relented, holding his palms up as he stepped back. “Two glasses of water and a Pearson IPA, coming right up.”

Grayson held up his empty glass in thanks as Bobby stalked off, his lips going tight the moment he was out of earshot. “I don’t like it, Cole,” Grayson said, whipping his head toward me so fast I worried he might get whiplash. “Look at him. Look at what he’s wearing.”

“Bobby?” I asked, leaning forward onto my palm as I watched Bobby disappear into the crowd over the table. “What do you mean?”

“His suit looks like yours. He got a haircut.”

“All suits look the same, Gray,” I chuckled. “He’s cleaning himself up. He’s doing better. I don’t see the problem here.”

“Just keep an eye on him,” he huffed, sitting back in his seat like an angry toddler. “Are you doing okay? With… you know…”

I sighed. “Do you want the truth or whatever will make you feel comfortable?”

“The truth.”

“I’m shit but I’m getting through it. You don’t need to worry.”

He went silent, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he watched me. “I don’t want to sound like a dick” he started, sitting forward again and leaving the angry toddler act behind, “but maybe you should hear them out. Meet up with them. They might have a lot more to say to you than you think.”

My brows rose as I took in his words, the anger I’d been pushing down threatening to erupt. “You think I should hear them out?”

“I’m just saying that maybe?—”

“You think it’s worth it, giving a fucking moment of my time to them? You think I should hear them out when they are the biggest goddamn triggers for me when it comes to drowning myself in the one fucking thing I can’t have?” I snapped, my hands balling into fists. My nails dug into my palms, the pain searing and raw. “They are fucking nothing to me. Nothing. They are shit on the floor. They are worthless, horrible humans who were perfectly happy to abandon their barely thirteen-year-old son but seem more than pleased to be raising two more. I don’t want them in the same state as me. Hell, the same country.”

Gray stared at me, his wide eyes and pursed lips only making it worse. “Cole?—”

The booming voice of the announcer came over the loudspeaker, cutting him off. “The next prize comes from Grayson Sparks, former NFL player and trainer of the UC Buffaloes!”

“Guess it’s your time to shine, buddy,” I said, the words biting and cold just as Bobby returned with our drinks.

Gray stood, hesitating for just a moment as he watched me, before heading to the stage.

“The fuck was that about?” Bobby asked, slotting in beside me and sliding my water across the fabric-draped table.

“Doesn’t matter.”

He watched me carefully, his finger tapping against the side of his glass. Maybe his hair did look a bit like mine but I had a fairly basic cut. It wasn’t anything unusual. “You look like you need a drink,” he said, the words hanging in the air, the hidden meaning known all too well to us both.

I dragged my tongue along the top row of my teeth, the burn in the back of my throat screaming.

“No,” I said.

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