Second Chance Holiday (6 page)

“Let’s go,” I say, ignoring him and grabbing his arm.

“How can someone who owns a strip club be so lame?” he asks, leaning his weight against me.

“You want me to help you get him into your car?” James asks, holding open the door to the station.

“We’re good. I’ll call you later. We need to figure out when we’re doing our fishing trip.”

“I wanna go on a fishing trip,” Brandon mutters as I lead him out to my car.

“You do?” I ask, surprised. I haven’t even thought about taking him because he has never seemed like he wants to even be in the same room I’m in let alone to go away for a few days on a trip.

“My dad was supposed to take me on a trip for graduation, but he told me we can’t go ‘cause his new kid needs braces,” he says and his eyes draw together like he’s trying to remember something. “My dad’s a piece of shit,” he slurs out.

“Your right about that,” I mutter in agreement while helping him into my car.

Once I see that he’s buckled in, I shut his door, walk around to the driver’s side door, and open it.

“We may have to schedule the fishing trip sooner rather than later!” I yell over the roof of my car at James, who is standing in the door of the station.

His eyes go from me to the passenger’s side of my car and he nods.

I get in and slam the door. Hearing Brandon talk about his father makes me realize what he has been missing. I have a good dad. Even when he and my mother split, I knew I could depend on him. I don’t know what it’s like to be a young man without a father to depend on. And it pisses me off that this kid wants to have a relationship with his dad and his father is too blind to understand that he’s lucky enough to have the opportunity to know his son, to watch him grow, to help shape the type of man he’ll be.

“My mom loves you,” Brandon mumbles, rolling his head against the headrest to look at me. “You hurt her, I’ll kill you,” he says as I pull out onto the highway towards home.

A smile twitches my lips, and I nod before answering. “I love her too, and I won’t hurt her.”

“Good,” he mutters before rolling down the window, sticking his head outside, and getting sick all over the side of my car.

“You’re washing my car tomorrow,” I tell him, trying not to laugh as he gags harder.

This scenario is familiar. I remember calling my mom to come pick me up when I had drunk too much in high school. The next day, I had to wash the inside and outside of my mom’s car. She told me that it was part of my punishment and it worked. I learned my limit quickly.

As soon as we pull up in front of Kat’s house, Brandon opens his door and falls out of the car onto the street. I get out, walk around to his side, and help him untangle his foot from where it somehow got stuck on the seatbelt before assisting him to his feet.

“You’re a good guy, Mike,” he says, patting my chest as he leans into me.

“When you’re not drunk, we’re gonna sit down and have a talk,” I tell him, walking up to the front door and pulling out my key.

“Fuck, you have a key. It is serious,” he says, his body almost pulling me down with him.

As I unlock the door and push it open, he leans over and vomits all over the porch. I hold him up, trying to help him over to the grass. The poor kid is going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow, and cleaning up puke isn’t going to help.

“Mike? Brandon?”

I turn slightly to look at Kat, who is standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a robe.

“What’s going on? Oh my God. Is he drunk?” she asks, starting to step outside.

I turn towards her, taking one hand off Brandon, placing it in her stomach, and pushing her back inside. “He got sick out here, baby,” I tell her, and she nods, looking at her son.

“I thought that, when we moved, you wouldn’t do this anymore, Brandon,” she says.

I can see the worry in her eyes, and I understand it, but I also understand why her son is acting out right now. Brandon stands up and leans his body weight completely on me.

“Let’s get him into bed. Tomorrow, we’re all gonna sit down and have a talk,” I tell her.

She looks ever more worried. The urge to comfort her almost strangles me, but I need to deal with her son first. Then I can talk to her and hopefully make her understand what’s going on and what this kid really needs. She can’t continue to act like his behavior is normal. It’s not fair to her son or her. Without saying anything else, I follow her into the house and up the stairs towards Brandon’s room.

“You want to shower or you want to sleep?” I ask Brandon, who is now moving more quickly to his room.

He lifts his head slightly and looks at me. “I just want to sleep,” he mutters, falling back onto his bed.

I find his garbage can and put it next to him. Then I make sure that he’s on his side before I pull his shoes off and cover him up. Kat comes in with a cup full of green liquid and holds it to his mouth. He rinses his mouth then leans over to spit in the trash can before lying back again.

“I love you, Mom,” he says, closing his eyes.

Kat sits down next to him on the bed, pushing his hair away from his forehead and pressing a kiss there, muttering, “I know you do,” softly before pulling away.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

I see her body sag. I step towards her, putting a hand to her back.

“This is not okay, Brandon. I love you more than life, but this is not okay.” The pain in her voice is obvious and I know she’s close to tears.

Brandon’s eyes open and he looks at his mom. The look in his eyes is so bleak that I want to track down his father and kill him for doing that to his son and the woman he was supposed to love.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, and I don’t even know if he knows what he’s apologizing for.

“We’ll talk tomorrow. I’m going to leave your door open so I can hear you if you need me,” she tells him, leaning in again and kissing is forehead.

We both head out of his room then down the stairs. I pull off my jacket and toss it onto one of the chairs in the living room before going to the kitchen and grabbing a beer.

MIKE

“S
o what happened?”
Kat asks.

I turn to face her and see that she has her arms wrapped around her waist and her eyes have become full of worry. “James called me and told me that Brandon asked him to call me to come pick him up after he was arrested.”

“Why didn’t he call me?”

“I think he was hoping that he wouldn’t get in trouble if he called me.”

“What?” she whispers.

“Baby,” I say softly, running a finger down her cheek. “I’m your boyfriend. My guess is he thought I would pick him up and ease the blow with you to try and get on his good side.”

“He used to do this before we moved. This was one of the reasons we moved to begin with. He was always hanging out with the wrong crowd. He would come home late or not at all. Sometimes, he would show up drunk or high. I tried to talk to him, but nothing was working. Then I decided to move here. I loved growing up here and figured that it was probably a safe place to raise my son.”

She takes a deep breath, letting her hands drop to her side. “When we first moved into town, he was okay. He was doing good in school and not giving me any problems. Then, a few months ago, right after his birthday, something happened and he stopped listening. He started getting angry easier and our relationship, which had started to repair, went downhill fast.” She looks away when I see tears begin to fill her eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on with him. I don’t understand why he’s so angry. I don’t know why he’s mad at me or how to help him.”

“I think that whatever happened has to do with his dad more than it has to do with you,” I say, and her eyes come back to me. “Did you know that his dad told him that he couldn’t take him on a graduation trip because his girlfriend’s kid needs braces?” I ask, watching her body still and her face contort with anger.

“No, I didn’t know that.”

“He did.”

“That dick.”

“Yep.” I nod and take a drink from my beer. “I talked to James, and what he said along with what Brandon said got me thinking,” I say, pulling her into me by the rope of her robe. “I think that Brandon needs some male bonding time. Every year, me and the Mayson’s go out on the lake for a few days, and I’m gonna take Brandon.”

“Really?” she whispers, leaning into me. Her eyes go soft, and I lean in and press my mouth to hers.

“I think it would be good for him and I to get to know each other better. I also think it would be good for him to have someone to look up to. Asher, Trevor, Cash, and Nico are not too much older than him. I know that I don’t have a conventional job and I’m not much of a role model, but I think that the other guys will be a good influence.”

“You know, when I first found out that you owned a strip club, I was a little put off,” she says.

I raise an eyebrow because
a little put off
is a huge understatement.

“Okay, so I was a lot put off,” she says, smiling. “But now I know to you. It’s your business and nothing more. You would also be a good influence on him. You’re a hard worker, you love your child and grandchildren, and you take care of the people you care about. I think all of those things are the qualities of a good man.”

My stomach tightens ‘cause those are not things I would have thought of. I know that a lot of people look at me and my club and say that I’m taking advantage of the women who work for me and I only see women as sex objects, but in my club, the women are safe. They are treated with respect. Most of them are students or mothers just trying to make a better life for themselves or their families. If I knew that the women who worked for me would be able to find somewhere else to work that had the same kind of environment, I would have closed the doors to Teasers after November moved home.

“Do you think that I should call his dad and tell him that his son needs him?” she asks, bringing me back to the moment.

“I don’t need him,” Brandon says, swaying into the kitchen. “He has never wanted to be a part of my life—even when you were married to him. He didn’t want to be a dad to me, so I don’t need him or want him in my life.”

“Honey.”

“No, Mom. Fuck him,” he growls, opening the door to the fridge.

“Watch your mouth,” I say.

Brandon looks at me over his shoulder. “You’re not my dad,” he states, holding my eyes.

Mine narrow on him. “You’re right. If I was your father, your ass would be handed to you for the stress you’re putting your mom through. I’m not your dad, but I’m an adult.”

“Whatever,” he mutters.

“You feelin’ better?” I ask him.

He shrugs, which only pisses me off further.

“You’re up and you don’t seem as drunk as you were, so take the hose and go wash off my car.”

“What?” he asks, looking from me to his mom.

“Go rinse off the vomit from the side of my car.”

“But it’s, like, midnight or something.”

“And?” I ask.

“Mom?” he says, looking at his mom again.

“Don’t look at me for help. And when you come in, we need to talk about your punishment.”

“Fine,” he says, stomping out of the kitchen, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing through the house.

“That went well,” Kat says then looks at me and smiles.

“Why are you smiling?”

“My son doesn’t agree to do stuff he doesn’t want to do. You have to understand that, as much as he’s mad right now, he respects you enough to go outside in the middle of the night to clean off your car because you told him to do it. That’s huge.”

“I think you’re reading to much into that, baby.”

She shrugs and takes the beer from my hand before putting it to her mouth and taking a drink. “Regardless, thank you for picking him up tonight.”

“You’re welcome,” I tell her, kissing her head.

After about fifteen minutes, the front door opens then shuts and Brandon comes into the kitchen.

“How long am I grounded for?” he asks his mom, and an idea comes to me.

“You’re gonna come work for me,” I say.

Kat and Brandon both say, “What?” at the same time.

“November has been trying to transfer all the stuff from my office to her home office. You’re gonna help her get everything organized.”

“So, I’m going to work at a strip club?” he asks.

Kat’s mouth has opened and closed a few times, but she still hasn’t said anything.

I look from her to Brandon and shake my head. “No, you’re not working at the strip club. You’re going to help November.”

“I think we should talk about this,” Kat says.

My eyes go to her and then back to Brandon. When Brandon’s eyes come back to me, something flashes in them before he looks at his mom.

“I wanted to get a job anyways, so I think this would be a good opportunity for me,” he tells his mom.

I give Kat’s waist a squeeze then look at Brandon. He needs something, and though I may not be the best person to give him what he needs, I want him to be successful and I want to heal the rift between him and his mom.
I just hope I don’t make shit worse.

“Okay, but you’re still grounded. You can use the car for school and work, but no hanging out with friends for a month.”

“A month?” he asks, stunned. Then he looks at me like I should help him out.

“Do I need to remind you that you were picked up by the cops for underage drinking? If you were anyone else, you would have spent the night in jail and had to go in front of the judge in the morning. You’re lucky that this is your punishment,” I tell him.

Kat leans slightly back into me. “A month, Brandon. If you mess up during the month, another month gets added,” she says.

Brandon looks at her and nods.

“I love you, honey. I know that you’re mad about your dad and what happened, but I love you and I want you to be a better man than he is, and right now I’m worried about you,” Kat says softly.

Brandon’s body loosens completely. He nods again, and Kat steps out of my hold and gives him a hug.

*