The Rocker That Needs Me
Page 2
He muttered something I couldn’t hear to his dad and then put the phone to his ear. “Dude, I’m busy,” Jesse said without even asking who it was. “What do you want?”
I glanced over at Emmie. “I need you to come over. Now.”
“Dray, I have to be at work in like twenty minutes.”
“Emmie needs you.”
That stopped him. Of the four of us Jesse was probably the most protective of Emmie. The guy was like a mother bear with her cub. “Is she okay?” he demanded.
“That’s questionable.” Physically, she was fine. If that douche bag had done nothing more than touch her leg, then she might not have any mental trauma from it. But what I was worried about was her being in the way when I lost control. “Just come over. Run,” I told him when I heard the bathroom door open. The phone went dead, and I placed it back in its cradle.
“How about another juice box, Emmie?” Rusty asked as he came down the narrow hallway. “Or a popsicle? That’s just what you need on a hot summer day…” He noticed me standing by my mom’s chair. “I didn’t hear you come in,” he muttered.
“I bet.” I gave him a once over. He didn’t look like a pedophile. He looked like what my mom still thought he was: a decent human being. I guess he was good looking. Rusty had just a hint of a beer gut. His hair was short and free of gray. He was average in height and his southern accent was something that my mom said she liked about him. To me, he was the monster from my nightmares.
The front door opened and Jesse came in looking wild. His gaze went straight to Emmie. “Em? Are you okay?” He rushed over and lifted her into his arms.
“Jesse!” She clung to his neck and buried her face in his chest. “Drake is scaring me.”
“What the fuck, man?” Jesse exploded. “She doesn’t look any worse than normal…” then he saw my face.
My gaze was still on Rusty, and I knew that my hatred—the pure venomous rage—was burning in my eyes. I was still shaking and it was getting worse by the second. Jesse glanced from me to a very nervous looking Rusty. “Take Emmie outside, Jesse,” I told him, not once taking my eyes off my stepfather.
“Dray…”
“Now!” I shouted, and Emmie whimpered in his arms. I hated that I was scaring her, but there was nothing I could do about it right now. Later, I promised myself. Later, I would make it up to her.
Jesse murmured something soothingly to Emmie as he turned and left the trailer. With the loud bang from the slamming door, I snapped. There was no way I could hold onto my control now…
I destroyed the living room. The floor lamp that sat beside the old rocker was sticking out of the broken window. The couch I had loved so much was flipped over and would probably never be used again. I thought I heard the dial tone of the phone and figured it was off the hook since the table beside what had once been my mom’s favorite chair was in pieces. The place was completely trashed by the time the cops showed up and pulled me off of the unconscious, bleeding man beneath me. It took two of them to put the handcuffs on me while they fought to push my face down into the carpet. One of the cops said something about an ambulance, and I screamed at him to let the fucker die. That only made the cop holding me down dig his knee deeper into my spine.
Shane burst into the trailer, followed by Nik. Neither said a word as they took in the scene. Outside I heard the sirens of the ambulance as I struggled against the cuffs. I wanted to finish what I had started before the paramedics got the chance to save the bastard.
“Drake!” My mom screamed as she followed the EMTs into the trailer. She had just come home from work and stepped into a war zone.
“Drake, what have you done?” She cried when she saw her husband lying motionless on her living room floor and me, her oldest son, in handcuffs. “Why did you do this?”
I clenched my jaw and refused to meet her eyes. “Because that piece of shit deserved it.”
“Mom!” Shane grabbed our mother. “Mom, there’s something you need to know.”
Something in my little brother’s voice made me glance over at him. He held onto Mom’s hands and spoke softly to her, but I still heard. “Rusty molested me when I was nine,” he explained, and I lost it.
All of it for nothing! The years of keeping the secret that haunted me night and day to protect him. I had turned to drinking myself to death just to sleep at night. And it was all for nothing! Rusty had still done to Shane what he had done to me.
I bucked the cops off me and somehow got to my feet despite the cuffs. Before I could reach Rusty, a third cop tackled me.
“No!” I screamed. “I’m going to kill him!”
Rusty Nelson was going to die for touching my little brother…
Chapter 1
Drake
I woke with the taste of stale Jack Daniels on my tongue, my head pounding and fighting the urge to vomit.
Yeah, my typical morning!
Nothing special about that or the nightmares that still lingered in my mind. They were what made me run for the bathroom. I barely made it before I started retching and emptied my dinner from the night before into the toilet.
I was brushing my teeth when Emmie waddled into my connecting bathroom and glared at me. Apparently she was still mad at me, and I still had no clue why. Damn pregnancy hormones!
“Grab a shower. You’re helping Jesse move Layla and her sisters into the guest house today.”
I groaned. “Emmie, my head is about to split open.”
“How is that different from any other day?” she called over her shoulder as she left the bathroom. “Hurry up. Jesse is leaving soon.”
Muttering a curse, I stepped into the shower. Thirty minutes later, I was riding shotgun in a rental with Jesse. He knew my head was killing me, and he didn’t talk much because of it. I rested my head against the back of the seat and prayed that the day would pass quickly. All I wanted was some Jack and a bed.
The apartment duplex Jesse pulled up in front of wasn’t the most seedy place I had ever seen, but it wasn’t the nicest either. We weren’t exactly in gang territory, but it was obvious that this wasn’t the safest of neighborhoods. I was kind of glad that Layla was moving into the guest house after seeing this place. I liked her and wanted her somewhere safer.
The sun was bright and I regretted not wearing my sunglasses as I climbed the stairs to the second floor behind Jesse. He knocked and the door opened.
“Jesse, hey,” Layla’s raspy voice greeted the drummer.
I glanced over at Emmie. “I need you to come over. Now.”
“Dray, I have to be at work in like twenty minutes.”
“Emmie needs you.”
That stopped him. Of the four of us Jesse was probably the most protective of Emmie. The guy was like a mother bear with her cub. “Is she okay?” he demanded.
“That’s questionable.” Physically, she was fine. If that douche bag had done nothing more than touch her leg, then she might not have any mental trauma from it. But what I was worried about was her being in the way when I lost control. “Just come over. Run,” I told him when I heard the bathroom door open. The phone went dead, and I placed it back in its cradle.
“How about another juice box, Emmie?” Rusty asked as he came down the narrow hallway. “Or a popsicle? That’s just what you need on a hot summer day…” He noticed me standing by my mom’s chair. “I didn’t hear you come in,” he muttered.
“I bet.” I gave him a once over. He didn’t look like a pedophile. He looked like what my mom still thought he was: a decent human being. I guess he was good looking. Rusty had just a hint of a beer gut. His hair was short and free of gray. He was average in height and his southern accent was something that my mom said she liked about him. To me, he was the monster from my nightmares.
The front door opened and Jesse came in looking wild. His gaze went straight to Emmie. “Em? Are you okay?” He rushed over and lifted her into his arms.
“Jesse!” She clung to his neck and buried her face in his chest. “Drake is scaring me.”
“What the fuck, man?” Jesse exploded. “She doesn’t look any worse than normal…” then he saw my face.
My gaze was still on Rusty, and I knew that my hatred—the pure venomous rage—was burning in my eyes. I was still shaking and it was getting worse by the second. Jesse glanced from me to a very nervous looking Rusty. “Take Emmie outside, Jesse,” I told him, not once taking my eyes off my stepfather.
“Dray…”
“Now!” I shouted, and Emmie whimpered in his arms. I hated that I was scaring her, but there was nothing I could do about it right now. Later, I promised myself. Later, I would make it up to her.
Jesse murmured something soothingly to Emmie as he turned and left the trailer. With the loud bang from the slamming door, I snapped. There was no way I could hold onto my control now…
I destroyed the living room. The floor lamp that sat beside the old rocker was sticking out of the broken window. The couch I had loved so much was flipped over and would probably never be used again. I thought I heard the dial tone of the phone and figured it was off the hook since the table beside what had once been my mom’s favorite chair was in pieces. The place was completely trashed by the time the cops showed up and pulled me off of the unconscious, bleeding man beneath me. It took two of them to put the handcuffs on me while they fought to push my face down into the carpet. One of the cops said something about an ambulance, and I screamed at him to let the fucker die. That only made the cop holding me down dig his knee deeper into my spine.
Shane burst into the trailer, followed by Nik. Neither said a word as they took in the scene. Outside I heard the sirens of the ambulance as I struggled against the cuffs. I wanted to finish what I had started before the paramedics got the chance to save the bastard.
“Drake!” My mom screamed as she followed the EMTs into the trailer. She had just come home from work and stepped into a war zone.
“Drake, what have you done?” She cried when she saw her husband lying motionless on her living room floor and me, her oldest son, in handcuffs. “Why did you do this?”
I clenched my jaw and refused to meet her eyes. “Because that piece of shit deserved it.”
“Mom!” Shane grabbed our mother. “Mom, there’s something you need to know.”
Something in my little brother’s voice made me glance over at him. He held onto Mom’s hands and spoke softly to her, but I still heard. “Rusty molested me when I was nine,” he explained, and I lost it.
All of it for nothing! The years of keeping the secret that haunted me night and day to protect him. I had turned to drinking myself to death just to sleep at night. And it was all for nothing! Rusty had still done to Shane what he had done to me.
I bucked the cops off me and somehow got to my feet despite the cuffs. Before I could reach Rusty, a third cop tackled me.
“No!” I screamed. “I’m going to kill him!”
Rusty Nelson was going to die for touching my little brother…
Chapter 1
Drake
I woke with the taste of stale Jack Daniels on my tongue, my head pounding and fighting the urge to vomit.
Yeah, my typical morning!
Nothing special about that or the nightmares that still lingered in my mind. They were what made me run for the bathroom. I barely made it before I started retching and emptied my dinner from the night before into the toilet.
I was brushing my teeth when Emmie waddled into my connecting bathroom and glared at me. Apparently she was still mad at me, and I still had no clue why. Damn pregnancy hormones!
“Grab a shower. You’re helping Jesse move Layla and her sisters into the guest house today.”
I groaned. “Emmie, my head is about to split open.”
“How is that different from any other day?” she called over her shoulder as she left the bathroom. “Hurry up. Jesse is leaving soon.”
Muttering a curse, I stepped into the shower. Thirty minutes later, I was riding shotgun in a rental with Jesse. He knew my head was killing me, and he didn’t talk much because of it. I rested my head against the back of the seat and prayed that the day would pass quickly. All I wanted was some Jack and a bed.
The apartment duplex Jesse pulled up in front of wasn’t the most seedy place I had ever seen, but it wasn’t the nicest either. We weren’t exactly in gang territory, but it was obvious that this wasn’t the safest of neighborhoods. I was kind of glad that Layla was moving into the guest house after seeing this place. I liked her and wanted her somewhere safer.
The sun was bright and I regretted not wearing my sunglasses as I climbed the stairs to the second floor behind Jesse. He knocked and the door opened.
“Jesse, hey,” Layla’s raspy voice greeted the drummer.
