a loud crash and shattering noise sounded from the den. We froze, staring at each other in shock, our dubious house guests suddenly remembered through a haze of lust.
I popped out of bed in seconds and ran for the door, down the hall, following the sound of hilarious laughter and the familiar nauseatingly sweet smell of marijuana smoke.
Jesus Murphy. These assholes were lighting up in the middle of our house. Pushing through the door, I scowled. The guys were laughing and playing their game on the console, ignoring the mess they’d made with the smashed glass on the hardwood floor between them.
They looked up at me, then at each other, their laughter intensifying. Mike held game controls and Derek held a smoldering cigar in his hand. “Oh hey, sis, can you clean this up? It fell.”
I looked at the mess of shattered glass and then back at him. “No, you can do it yourself after you put that out. Don’t you fucking smoke pot in the middle of my house.”
“It’s legal here, right? We’re in Cali. It’s all legal.”
“It’s not legal in my house. I can’t stand the reek. Put it out.”
“Jeez, Kat, no need to get mean about it.” But he made no move to snuff the rank thing out and Mike kept on playing his game as if I hadn’t said a thing. I scooped up the half-filled glass of beer before he kicked that one over, too, then snatched the blunt out of Derek’s hand and doused it in the beer.
“What the fuck!” He said, sitting up. “I wasn’t finished with that.”
“You are, now. Just because Mom and Dad let you do all the weed you want doesn’t mean you have the right to do it here. This is my house. You don’t get to stink it up with your fatties.”
Lucas entered the room with a broom and dust tray but before he could bend to sweep it up, I held up a hand toward him. “Make them do it.”
The two houseguests looked at each other and started laughing again. Then Mike turned and tried to peer around me to look at the screen. “You mind? You’re blocking me.”
Instead I went to the outlet and pulled out the plug to the console. “Game’s over.”
“Bitch!” Derek muttered.
Mike’s expletive was worse, a fun word for a woman that started with c. That made two of those in two days. Lovely.
Lucas threw down the broom and tray with a loud clatter and both of the guys nearly shit their pants with shock, staring at him with widened eyes. “No. You don’t ever, ever talk to her like that. Apologize.”
“She’s my sister.” As if that gave him the right to abuse me. Derek sat up stiffly like he was entertaining the thought of confronting Lucas.
Lucas did not back down, eyes flashing with anger. “And I’m her husband. You’re in my house. You don’t ever call her that or you’ll answer to me and you won’t like what I do.” He pointed to the broom and dust pan on the floor. “Get off your asses. Clean this shit up and fucking apologize to your sister. ” He peered at Mike. “And it goes without saying, you too, unless you want to sleep in the street tonight. And don’t ever call my wife that again.”
I watched Lucas in wordless shock as he stood there, looming over my asshole brother with a tense posture. Lucas looked ready to back up his demands with something physical, if necessary.
And it did something to me. Emotion so strong and thick clogged in my throat so I couldn’t even speak. Blinking, I hardly registered when Derek muttered an apology and began half-heartedly sweeping up his mess.
He did a crappy job of it, of course, but they soon cleared out of the den and slunk back to their air mattresses in the dining room. I bent to finish up but Lucas wordlessly took the broom out of my hand and did it himself.
I was so choked up I couldn’t even thank him.
I got myself a glass of water from the kitchen and went back to the bedroom. Sipping at it, I sorted through this swirl of emotions overtaking me. Was I happy? Was I sad? Was I anxious?
I had no idea.
It was a unique and perfect storm of feelings swirling around like a massive tornado sweeping across the prairies.
I was standing like that, unmoving in the middle of the bedroom, when he re-entered and shut the door behind him.