best for Archer without giving two shits about anyone else. You get off your high horse and take a look around. Everyone else is living, not staying in the past, but you won’t even try. Hell, I’ve been in prison for nearly two years, and I still hold no grudges as strong as you.”
“What about you?” I seethe. “You sat back while Dad shit all over Grandpa’s legacy. Where was your loyalty to him? To our name, huh?” I raise my voice. “Where was that goddamn loyalty?”
“What else was I supposed to do, huh?” He rubs the back of his neck. “I took my salary, nothing extra. Did I know what Dad was doing? Yes. I got time because I knew, because I wouldn’t turn on my family. Loyalty runs through my blood.”
“Your loyalty landed you in prison.”
If I hear loyalty one more time, I’m going to throw myself out that damn window.
He stands, plucks his bag from the bed, unzips it, and starts unpacking.
“Look,” I say, blowing out deep breaths to calm myself, “it’s your first night home. Let’s not talk about shit we’ll want to kill each other for.”
He holds up his arm and flexes his muscles. “Admit you don’t want the smoke from these guns.”
Lincoln is buff, gym-built buff, unlike me, who’d have a large frame whether I worked out or not. He worked out constantly during his stint in prison and is in the best shape he’s ever been. Still doesn’t have shit on me size-wise, though. While I got more of my father’s size, Lincoln is between my dad’s and my mother’s.
I tap the door with my knuckles. “Unpack. Get some rest.”
“Mom’s having a party tomorrow night, and you’re coming,” he rushes out before I leave.
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
I shake my head. “You have fun with that.”
I came for Lincoln.
I’m drinking for my sanity.
There’s nothing like celebrating your freedom and being around the fake friends who talked shit when you were arrested, calling you a criminal on the down-low. My mom handled the guest list, and Lincoln, knowing this as well, has steered clear of those people. He insisted my mom have something small, but the seventy-five-plus people in attendance is far from that.
The party is too much for me, and I have to stop myself from bursting out in laughter. There’s a harp and piano playing as tonight’s entertainment. A fucking harp and piano for a get out of prison party. Caviar, Kobe beef, costs more than my bar makes in a week champagne.
My mother does not know how to read the room for shit.
I climb up the spiraling staircase at my grandparents’ mansion, using the railing as my guide since my tunnel vision isn’t doing a great job of leading the way. I walk, weaving from side to side in the hall, until I find the guest room I’m searching for. I slam the door, lock it, and collapse onto the bed as if I hadn’t slept in years.
Lincoln decided to crash here after my grandparents offered to have their chef whip up his favorite breakfast in the morning. Considering I told him his ass would be having Lucky Charms at my place, he went with their offer. I might as well do the same.
As soon as my head falls onto the pillow, Georgia comes to mind.
Like my asshole self always does, I shoved myself back into her life. I couldn’t show up without a gift; that would’ve been more asshole-like.
At least, that’s my excuse.
As I brainstormed gift ideas, I didn’t want to give her a generic-ass gift card or a Congrats! picture frame. More thought needed to be put into something for her big day.
“Screw it,” I groan, reaching across the bed and grabbing my phone from the nightstand. I play with it in my hand while scrambling for the best excuse to call her.
Not that there is one.
I shouldn’t.
It’s too late.
A bad idea.
Selfish.
Selfish or not, I don’t stop myself from unlocking my phone and scrolling down my Contacts until I reach her name.
“You selfish bastard,” I mutter to myself when I tap it.
Ringing comes alive on the other end, and excitement crawls through my inebriated mind when she answers.
“Hello?” Her voice is cloaked in confusion.
“Hey,” I croak out.
“Is, uh … everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I’m wasted, in bed, and talking to her. Everything is happy-go-fucking-lucky over here.
The line goes mute for a moment until she finally asks, “If everything is okay, why are you calling?”
Good question there, woman who’s crept her way