Page 43 of The Biggest Sacrifice

I groan, finding my phone. “Fuck.” I try to sit up, nausea rolling through me. The empty bottle sitting on the table slams into my gut.

“Time?”

“Stop. Yelling.”

I hear him chuckle. “What fucking time is it, Casanova?”

Looking at my phone, I groan again, which will probably be my mantra for the next twenty-four hours. “It’s almost noon.”

“What day is it? Are we supposed to be at the station?”

“I don’t fucking know.” I roll from the couch, using the floor to steady myself. The room is spinning and my stomach rolls again. “Fuck, this isn’t good.” I manage to stand and make my way to the kitchen. My mouth feels like I was eating cotton last night and I’m sweating out whiskey. I can smell it oozing from my pores.

Turning on the sink, the sound of water hitting the metal makes my head throb. I fill a glass and drink slowly. I lean down on the counter, head in my hands, when I hear a knock.

Groaning, because that’s the only noise that seems to fit this hell hole I’m in, I look out the window above the sink to see Billy’s truck in my driveway.

“Got company, Casanova. Is it our girl?”

“Mygirl. Watch your fucking mouth.”

Hearing his laugh turn into a painful moan, I smile at his discomfort and make my way to the door to open it. Billy takes one look at me and doubles over.

“Oh, this is fucking classic!” He’s fumbling in his pocket, pulls out his phone and begins snapping pictures.

“Put that shit away.” I try to reach for him, but my balance is non-existent and all I manage to do is hit the side wall.

“Still drunk? You pussy!” He laughs again and pushes his way past me. I shut the door and lean against it. But Billy just keeps on being Billy.

“And fucking O’Brien! Oh, I can’twaitto tell this story!” He’s so fucking loud right now.

“Billy. Stop yelling.”

He hoots again. To the point of wheezing and falls onto the couch right before he picks up the empty bottle.

“At least you two have good taste.” He shakes the bottle, then places it back on the table. “So, you two lovebirds get drunk and make up or what?”

I’m in no state to talk to Billy about any of last night. I look at Cash, who has finally sat upright in the chair.

“We did. You missed a good time. Even Farrah got involved.” When I connect eyes with him, he gives me a wink. I throw him the finger. Billy turns and looks over the back of the couch.

“Brother, what the fuck is going on here? And was that you two making all that noise last night?”

Flashes of us doing pushups and chanting cadence fill my memory. Then I smile as I recall JT always outdoing me when it came time to do PT and pushups were on the list.

“Bill, it was us. We had a moment. And I’m afraid your brother has a new best friend now, so twin or not, you’re out. I’m in.”

Billy barks a laugh. “Go ahead and tell yourself that. I also know Farrah had nothing to do with last night because I saw her bright and early at the bakery and now she’s running the playground with the little kids. If she was with you two, there’s no way she’d be walking.”

“That’s what she said.”

“O’Brien, I’m fucking sick of warning you!”

The two of them crack up and I come and sit on the couch next to Billy. Being with these two has a feeling coming over me so strong that I can’t name it, but right at this moment, it has me choking back tears. “Fuck.” I rub my eyes, feeling my lip quiver. I blow out a breath, trying to get myself under control, but then I feel a hand on my shoulder. I know it’s my twin. But I can’t look at him.

And I break.

“Are you crying?” I hear the worry in his voice. “Cash? What the fuck is happening?”

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