Error (Adrenaline Series Book 5) (2 page)

Steve snaps as we approach my black car, “What the fuck is a fushroom?”

“A fucking mushroom?” I guess.

“No.” He quickly shakes his head. “Whoa...mobo sickness.”

Motion sickness. See. He's wasted.

“A fushroom, is the tip of your dick dude,” the explanation clear as day. “Duh.”

“Did he...did he just-”

“Yes,” I cut him off. Opening my passenger side to help him in I politely say, “He did just call you a dickhead. However, he is way too gone to care. I'll make sure he apologizes the next time he comes in.”

“Do that.”

“Promise. Thanks again, Steve.”

“Yeah,” he grumbles backing up towards his motorcycle mumbling profanities under his breath.

His head does look a little funny shaped. But shhhh....

In the car, I help him get buckled in before allowing him to give me directions to wherever it is he lives. Destin spouts off a combination of clearly precise instructions and jumbled information that has me driving around in circles damn near delivering him to the wrong house multiple times. Once I'm finally flustered, I shoot Angela a text for an address. During the drive he fades in and out of sleep, at certain points I'm not sure if he's hitting on me or repeating lines from porn.

When I finally arrive in front of the McCoy Mechanic Shop, I manage to convince him to give me his keys. Of course the process is a difficult one filled with pouts and proclamations that I need to dig them out, but he eventually gets frustrated enough to just hand them to me. Once the door is unlocked we make our way toward the door at the top. The stumbling up a flight of stairs with a limp, swaying drunk takes more athletic energy than I've used in years.

It's not like I'm that out of shape. I skateboard sometimes. Keeps me kinda fit. Whatever. You help a drunk 180 pound weeble wobble up the stairs and we'll talk about my exercise regimen.

Unlocking the apartment that is above the shop, I'm startled by the crowd that appears to be waiting for us.

“Thank fuck,” Madden, the oldest McCoy and by far the scariest, growls.

“Seriously,” Drew, Destin's living triplet brother, sighs.

“Why didn't you answer your goddamn phone?” Madden bites harshly.

“Why the fuck aren't you home sooner?” Drew's concerned voice echoes.

Destin lifts his drunken face.

Knoxie who's not technically a McCoy, but might as well be, flops her face in her hand at the kitchen table. “No one is gonna thank the gorgeous nerdy girl who brought him home?”

“Thanks Azura,” Drew whispers before folding his arms across his chest. “Appreciate it.”

Destin wiggles himself away from me. “Don't fluckin thank her.”

Drunk...he's drunk...remember that. Help remind me of that.

Drew lifts his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

He turns to face me and flails around. “Tell 'em! Tell 'em your here to funk me-”

Instantly I surrender my hands in the air. “I swear, I was just driving him home.”

Knoxie snips, “You sure you don't wanna sleep with Captain Morgan's taste tester here?”

“No Captain in me!” Destin snaps at her. “I sluck Jim harder.”

“Oh...I'm so not touching that one,” she mumbles and shakes her head. “Nope.”

“And lore lying.” Destin flails at me again. “You bo wanna fluck me.”

I do, but not like this. Never like this.

“You bo wanna fluck me cause I look like my dead siplet who wouldn't fluck you if claid him.”

As soon as the comment is out of his mouth my hand flies across his face. 

Shit! That stings! A lot. Why didn't you warn me about the tingle? Oh I would do it again. You bet your ass. Oh my gosh, this hurts though...

“Shit!” Knoxie shrieks. “I felt that over here!”

Madden grouses, “That's enough, Destin.”

“But-”

“Enough!” His voice bellows. “Take your ass to bed.” Destin wobbles in objection, which is when Madden says, “Take your ass to bed before I lay your ass out to help you get there.”

“Bye Bye Captain,” he mumbles and starts to walk away.

Knoxie scrunches her face. “No one is gonna point out that he should've said Aye Aye Captain?”

“Knox,” Madden snaps.

“Really? No one?”

Madden growls, “Knox…”

“Oh be a crabby patty all you want. You're not the only one still up at an hour that's strictly reserved for booty calls and IHOP employees, and still has to be up at an un-Godly hour for work.”

The second she's finished, Drew insists, “Azura-”

“I know, Drew.” Nodding slowly I put the keys down on the kitchen table and back up towards the door. “Still. I didn't deserve that.”

Drew and Daniel both had a slightly more familiar relationship with me. They knew I brought them drinks. Daniel did try to sleep with me once, but he figured it out quite quickly he wasn't the McCoy for me. I saw him more often than the others thanks to his random pop in visits to Angela. He even told me once all I had to do was let him know when I wanted his help to hook up with his brother. I tried to explain I didn't just wanna sleep with him, but the concept didn't register. Yeah. That was Daniel. Female Angela in so many ways.

“No,” Drew sighs. “You didn't...”

Turning the door knob, I prepare to leave. “I'm gonna go.”

“I'll walk you down,” he offers.

“I’m fine-”

“Let him walk you,” Madden states.

He has this way he says shit. It forces you to comply whether it was your intent or not.

Drew motions at the door indicating he'll follow me. The two of us take the flight of stairs in silence. While the walk to my parked car is swift, it feels just the opposite.

Almost like the worst Walk of Shame you can imagine. None of the gain, all of the shame.

At my door, I politely say, “Thanks.”

“Azura, listen,” he starts slowly. “About what he said-”

“Drew-”

“Just let me finish,” he implores. “He obviously didn't mean it, but I know that hurt. I know that hurt and I know
why
that hurt.”

Pushing my glasses up my nose I try to act nonchalant. “I um...I don't know what you're talking about.”

He smiles his award winning smiling. “If I wasn't in love myself I wouldn't fucking know it, but I am. So I do. All I'm saying is don't let some drunken outbursts put him out of the running. He's drowning. He needs a lifesaver. I think it's you.”

With hope coursing through my blood almost as sharply as disgust, I somehow manage to nod.

I know he's right. Destin needs someone more than ever. All the death that keeps surrounding him, who wouldn't need a little help to not suffocate in that? What do you think I should do?

Destin

Who is fucking playing the bongos? Who the fuck even plays the bongos anymore? What do you mean those aren't the bongos? How could that possibly be my head? Why are you yelling? Seriously, take it down to below fog horn level.

Suddenly there's a sharp pain in my cheek and I shoot up. “What the fuck!” My own shouting makes me groan in further pain as my head hits the pillow again. Grumbles and mumbles fall from me while my body debates which pain sucks more.

Don't laugh, it's not funny. Huh? That's not you is it?

I open my eyes back up, despite their best efforts to stay closed, to see Knox staring at me with a smirk from the edge of my bed.

“Hi!” She shouts.

Still groaning, I reach for a spare pillow. Like she's got an NBA ring for blocking, she swats the pillow forcing it to fly out of my hands. When it hits my closet door, I cringe at the sound. “Damn it, Knox.”

“Rise and shine Prince of The Distillery. Kitchen. Now.” She rises off the edge of my bed, so I roll over, which is when she adds, “If you don't get the fuck out of that bed in the next forty five seconds, I will knee you in the nuts so hard it'll make your jaw click.”

Is that possible? Ya know what? Never mind. I don't wanna fucking find out.

Somehow I manage to put on a pair of shorts that were on the ground beside my bed and wander into the kitchen where my family awaits.

Well, what's fucking left of it.

Reluctantly I slide into the seat at the kitchen table that's oddly enough not occupied.

Do you get the feeling they did this shit on purpose?

Madden who is leaned against the counter by the stove approaches, the vicious look on his face enough to make my stomach churn. When his large palms land on the table across from me, I fly backwards, the motion causing me to hold a fist to my mouth to stop the vomit.

“Oh God yes,” Knox encourages from the area my big brother was just standing at. “Please puke in his face. I need something funny to get me through the day.”

His eyes pierce mine harder.

It's like he's pushing the bile back down my throat. Scary fucker huh? Tell me about it. At least he's not breathing down your neck right now. Wanna swap? I really could use the rest.

“Let me make something crystal fucking clear to you,” he starts slowly. “This stops now.”

Perplexed, I shrug. “What does?”

“Your obsession with bringing down The Devil is beginning to get the better of you. Day and night, all you do is sit in that room-”

“Which smell horrendously by the way,” Knox calls from over his shoulder.

“-and watch the screen while drinking yourself into a coma. No more. You wanna drink? Fucking fine. Do it with other people. You wanna hack? Fine. Do it for whatever reasons you used too. But hunting The Devil that way stops now.”

Anger surges up my throat blindsiding the vomit. “Are you fucking kidding me? I've made so much goddamn progress! We're so fucking close to taking that asshole out!”

“We're not any fucking closer,” Madden announces. “The only thing you're stalking has done is speed up the process of which the cops collect evidence on him and slowly, but surely start to kill my younger brother. You're done, Destin. I'm not about to lose another brother to him.”

“So you're done? Just like that?” I snap. “He's killed my brothers, Madden!”

“Our.” His finger taps the table. “They were my brother's too. And I'll let him kill me before he kills another.” The cold words clamp my mouth shut. “We will figure out something else.
Together
. Not you, alone locked in your room like a serial killer in the making, but together, as a family. So let this go and get your life back together.” At the end of his speech he backs up towards the front door. “You're not allowed in the shop today.”

“But-”

“Drew's gonna cover for you.”

“We need all hands. We're short,” I remind him trying to hold back a sniffle.

“We'll deal.” He assures with a cold stare. “Get your shit together, Triple D.”

Madden exits without another word, slamming the door harshly behind him.

Knoxie sighs, “You know what the problem with you McCoys is?” When my face moves to look at her she shakes her head. “You're all so goddamn selfish. You're all in such a rush to dive on a fucking sword like you have to crucify yourselves for your lives to matter. You don't. They already do. You just fail to see it.”

“Knox-”

“Don't.” She lifts a hand. “I'm not in the mood.” With one final shake of her head she mutters. “I have to get to work. Ya know, that place with the loud noises and annoying people.”

As soon as she's out the door, Drew gets up from the bar table and relocates to sit across from me.

“You gonna chew me out too?” I grunt.

“Hey Mel,” he says sweetly to his girlfriend that's lingering beside where he just was. “Can you give us a minute alone?”

“Sure,” she softly replies. “I'll grab a shower.”

He nods and watches her walk out of the room. The second it's just the two of us he asks, “Do you remember anything from last night?”

My brain struggles to put together pieces of anything after I crashed the birthday party of blondes.

Truth is, I'm the least smooth of all of us. I know, with a face like this it shouldn't be that hard. It's not. Between the well-known looks and even more well-known name, chicks kinda just drop in my lap. Daniel did the hard work, Drew picked what he wanted, and I just hung out with whatever was left. It didn't always end in sex, in fact more times than not it didn't....but I never had to go out and search for girls on my own. Beauty of being identical triplets. If they wanna fuck your brother, there's a good chance they wanna fuck you too. Flying solo is much harder. Some sort of whiskey last night helped me forget what rejection feels like.

“Yeah I didn't think so,” Drew sighs. “You know Destin, I know what it's like right now. I get it. I lost him too.” Uncomfortable by the words I shift in my seat. “There's this weird...void on the inside, you don't quite understand. This little piece of you that's just waiting to be filled again, but you know it never will be. You hear his laugh at dirty words or words that possibly sound that way. You see a blonde chick and first thing you do is the Daniel triple B check list because-”

“A Triple D should never settle for anything less than a triple B.”

Beautiful. Blonde. B Cup. She can be more than a B Cup but never less.

Drew chuckles a little, “Exactly. Without him, it feels like there's a giant gaping black hole waiting to suck you in, so you compensate for his absence by doing things he would've. You try to recreate parts of him to keep him here. The porn. The drinking. The attempts at random one night stands.”

Did you know I hate one night stands? I haven't had any recently either.

He leans in closer to me. “You're not the only one hurting, Destin.
I watched him die.
” The fact brings tears to both our eyes. “
I
watched him take his last breath. You are not the only one who is suffering with this, but you know what? I wake up every morning to the most beautiful woman in the world who reminds me that I'm not alone. I still have another triplet brother. Truth is, if you keep this shit up I'm gonna end up without either of you. I miss Daniel as much as you do, but not enough to give you up in exchange. Stop trying to become him and be
you
. You're still here. You're still alive. Let's try to make the most of that....”

Drew extends his fist across the table for me to bump. I do.

This ladies, is the level headed triplet. Daniel was the wild one. Drew the reasonable one. I'm obviously the dashing one....Did you smile? Good. I did too.

“One more thing,” Drew starts almost immediately smiling. “You were a douche last night.”

Not surprised, I rub the side of my head. “To?”

“Azura.”

My shoulders slump.

Look, Azura is not only the world's most gorgeous bartender in the history of human existence, she's also the kindest person I've ever met. I swear, if Daniel hadn't already slept with her...I...I am totally not finishing that sentence.

“Yeah. You um, said she only wanted to bone you cause you look like Daniel.”

I grit my teeth. “I said that out loud?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“To her?”

“Yeah.”

“Out loud to her?”

“No matter how many times you break down the sentence, the answer is yes.”

Vomit jerks back up my throat.

“You need to call and apologize.”

“I don't have her number.”

Drew tilts his head at me. “You're gonna tell me that's an issue for you? How did you make sure you were in Mary Ann's English class again? It was really random luck of the draw your classes got scheduled that way?”

“Point proven.”

“And you should know something else.”

“What's that?”

“You're wrong.”

“About?”

“Her.” Still confused I wave a hand around. “It's not Daniel, she wanted to sleep with you. It's you bro.”

Immediately I deny, “Nah...”

“Trust me.” Drew smirks again. “I know a thing or two about chicks.”

“Just 'cause you're practically married now doesn't mean you know shit about chicks.”

He lightly laughs and stands. “To teach you just how much I indeed know about them, I'm gonna go fuck my girl rotten. Take notes.”

“Ugh,” I groan and let my head fall forward.

Before he leaves the room he gives me a strong pat on the shoulder and informs, “There's HS in the drawer.”

Thank fuck. Hangover Serum is this little mixture Mel, his girlfriend, created that wipes the thing away. Man, it could make her billions if she sold it, but that's not possible...before you ask me why not, that's not my story to tell. It's hers. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna grab a dose of that and figure out a way to undo the damage I'm sure I've done.

**

Bouncing on the balls of my feet, I try to battle away the trepidation that this is going to be as awful as I've imagined it in my mind.

And I've imagined quite a few different ways this scenario could play out, including having her ripping my nuts off and juggling with them. Thank God she's not Knox or that would be a real possibility.

I knock on my forehead twice and then the door.

To my surprise it swings open almost instantly. Angela gasps at me. “Daniel?”

“Destin.”

My correction paints a familiar sadness into her eyes.

She was one of his regular girls. While he cycled through one nightstands enough to make anyone's dick scared of the outcome, he also had a handful of girls he called at routine times on certain days. They were his staple chicks. Judge him all you want, none of them fucking minded.

“Right.” She shakes her head quickly. “I'm sorry. I just...you just...right. What's up?”

Nervously, I fidget. “Is your sister home?”