Page 10 of Blackout-

Breathe.

Just fucking breathe.

Pocketing the phone, I take the glass and dump the water in the sink. Eying the bottle of scotch on the counter, I move to the refrigerator and fill my glass with ice.

The phone rings again.

The girl continues to cry.

And me?

I reach for the bottle. Filling my glass, I give myself a pass. It’s just one drink. It's not like I’m shooting heroin or snorting blow.

Just one drink.

Something to take the edge off.

To dull the sound of that innocent girls cries.

The first swig goes down easy and before I realize it, one drink turns to two.

I forget to breathe.

My head goes under and I drown.

I just fucking drown.

Chapter Five

Lacey

Pausingin front of my father’s house, I turn and stare at the street. Instantly, my mind wanders back to that fateful day when I was five years old. I remember the horror I felt as I stood paralyzed and watched my baby brother get struck by the car that took his precious life. It doesn’t matter how many years go by, the image of Junior’s lifeless body is forever ingrained to my memory and every time I visit my dad, I feel the guilt of being his surviving child. Every time I ring that bell and he opens the door, I still look at him and see him kneeling in the street, holding his son. I still hear the sound of his heartbreaking screams and his raspy voice as he begged for God to spare him.

Closing my eyes, I shake the memory from my head and recite the same words over and over.

It’s not your fault.

You were just a kid yourself.

No one blames you.

Especially not your father.

Blowing out a breath, I open my eyes and start for the stoop. I fix my mask to my face, planting that fake as shit smile everyone’s come to love to my lips, and ring the doorbell. After a few moments pass, I ring it again and glance back at the driveway. Both his bike and Reina’s car are parked in the driveway. Weighing my options, I bite my lip. No daughter, no matter how old she is, wants to walk in on her father as he goes to town on her stepmother—even if said father is deserving of the interruption.

The door swings open before I can fully decide, and I’m greeted with Reina’s grief-stricken face. Instantly, I ditch the false pretenses and narrow my eyes in concern. My father doesn’t dub her Sunshine for nothing. The woman is always so put together and I don’t just mean appearance wise. She rolls with the punches and never lets anything drag her down. Whatever situation my father finds himself in, she’s right there facing it with him. Nothing rattles her and if it does, well she’s got one fuck of a mask too.

“What’s wrong?” I ask hoarsely, watching as she wipes away her tears.

“Now isn’t a good time, Lace,” she cries. “You need to go.”

“Not a good way to get me to leave, Reina,” I reply as I slice my eyes over her shoulder. “What’s going on? Where’s my father?”

“Lace, please,” she snaps. “Just go home. We’ll call you later.”

At the abrupt tone of her voice, my gaze shoots back to her and I swallow the lump in my throat. I have enough experience in life to know a lot can change in a short while, but it’s only been two hours since my dad called Blackie and while he was quick to leave the house after he hung up with him, he didn’t let on that my father was in any kind of trouble. He pulled his clothes on, shoved his arms into his kutte and kissed me goodbye, promising to pick up where we left off when he got home. If something was wrong, I’d like to think he’d tell me.

“I’m not leaving, and I really don’t want to push you out of my way, so—”

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