Page 12 of The Bro Pact
“Fine,” Nelson grumbles, glancing at Val one more time before he scoops up the money and shoves it in his pocket. “I’ll be right back.” He won’t be an asshole and say no in front of Ren’s sister. Especially when he’s the only one here who’s twenty-one, and knows we can’t use our fakes in town.
When the front door clicks shut, Valentina speaks up. “Good. It’s finally just us.” She reaches under the dining room table and pulls out a sparkly gift bag that flakes everywhere. She sets it on the table in front of Ren. “For your trip.” She smiles kindly at her brother, and I watch as he tugs out sheet after sheet of white tissue paper.
Ren gasps, staring for a moment before gently reaching into the bag. “No way,” he says in awe, pulling out what looks like a small Polaroid camera. “It’s the one?—”
“That you wanted,” Val finishes for him. “Prints out those cute little square photos, like Instagram from the seventies,” she chuckles.
Warren laughs, setting the camera down before getting up and walking around the table to give Val a huge hug that lifts her off the ground. “Thank you, sis.”
“Welcome,” she chirps.
After they sit back down and talk about cameras for a little while, Nelson finally returns with two brown paper bags full of alcohol, handing them over to Ren.
“Don’t do anything stupid and make me regret this,” he warns quietly so that Val can’t hear.
Ren’s lip slowly quirks up on one side, and my brother sighs. “Let me rephrase that. Don’t get drunk and get yourselves hurtor in trouble because of it. Mom would kill me if she found out I bought you alcohol.”
“We’ll be fine, Nelson.” I grab the paper bags from Ren, supporting the heavy bottoms.
We say goodbye to our siblings and Nelson walks Valentina to her car, always trying to prove himself a gentleman.
I head upstairs with the alcohol stash, safely placing the beer and liquor bottles in a tote bag with a throw blanket stuffed around them. I grab sixty bucks out of my wallet, intent on paying for my half.
“Ready to hit the road?” Ren asks, jogging upstairs to help me carry my stuff down.
“Yep. Here,” I say, handing him the money.
“Thanks, man.” He stuffs it in his pocket and grabs the tote bag and my backpack. “We can’t forget the stuff in the garage, either. Mama Carol buys the softest toilet paper.”
Ren laughs when I shove him. “Don’t worry. We’ll grab everything on the way out, and my bike too.”
There’s an extra level of excitement about leaving at night, and a strange sort of thrill washes through me.
We open the garage door and sneak out to Ren’s truck, loading my luggage and securing my bike in the bed, before setting my mom’s groceries on the floor of the backseat.
The drive to Moretti’s Auto Shop is quick, and Ren leaves his truck in the back lot that’s protected by a chain-link fence and barbed wire. We load everything into the RV to unpack later, and strap both of our bikes to the back, right next to the metal ladder.
I’m more than ready to get on the road. We have energy drinks and cold-brewed coffee stocked, in addition to everything that my mom bought for us.
We can drive all night if we want to, and I can’t fucking wait.
CHAPTER SIX
WARREN
Breakfast sizzles in our one and only frying pan as I flip the sausage patties Mama Carol packed for us. I pop down the toast next and get the butter out of the fridge, ready to spread it on hot. It has to melt completely, neither of us like chunks.
The irresistible smell must wake Kyle because I hear a pained groan coming from the sofa bed.
“You okay in there, buddy?” I holler as I finish up. “Food’s almost ready!”
Kyle stumbles into the kitchen with his eyes half-closed and his blond hair sticking up in every direction. “I didn’t sleep well,” he mutters, attempting to rub the stiffness from his neck. “And my back is killing me,” he complains, trying to massage his own shoulder blades, but it’s hard with biceps that large.
I switch the burner off and move the skillet to a hot pad. “Here, let me,” I insist, brushing his hand away. I begin to massage Kyle’s neck, rubbing gently before squeezing his shoulders and upper arms.
His skin is warm and slightly damp, like he was sweating in his sleep.
I use my thumbs to knead slow circles into the tight muscles between his shoulder blades and spine.
