Finally Myra.

44.

*Drake's POV*

I much prefer Myra's couch in her room.

The big one downstairs feels incredibly slept on, no doubt because this is the one Nate and Brady have slept on when they're in trouble.

I just don't get how I'm the one in trouble when I literally didn't do anything.

It is currently 7:00, I never went back to sleep, and I hear footsteps coming down the stairs.

Micha came stumbling into the living room rubbing his temples. "Why are you on the couch?"

I just sat up and looked at him. "I am on the couch because of you." I nodded.

"What?" He scrunched his face. "What did I do?"

"How about when you drink you turn in to a drunk asshole who can't keep his fucking mouth closed. You're not drunk anymore, so I am going to give you a chance to take everything you said back before I lay you out in the middle of the living room."

"Jesus what the hell did I say to you?" He shook his head.

"Oh no. You didn't say anything to me. You went off on your sister last night."

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh god, what did I say?" He sat down next to me.

"You told Myra that you and Hope not being together was her fault. That if she wouldn't have got with Ryan that her and I would've worked things out, I would've never slept with Hope, and you would've told her how you felt at Nate's wedding."

"OK, that's not that bad." He shook his head.

"No, but when Myra told you that if she wouldn't have gotten with Ryan that she wouldn't have had Layton. Then you went on to tell her that she wouldn't have been a single mother, to a child that she wasn't and still isn't ready for. And that if she would've waited for someone who cared about her she would have a family. Then you told her that Layton was going to resent her for keeping him from Ryan. Then proceeded to tell her that if she would've waited, she wouldn't be fucking a dude who left her to fuck around in college."

"Oh no." He groaned.

"Oh I'm not fucking done." I shook my head. "You then told her she ruined both of your lives, and mine, and how she never deserved me in the first place and how you sat up for 2 years listening to me cry about how she ruined my life, which I have never once in my life said, and to do me a favor and let me out before she fucks up my life more. And that right there is when Nate basically kicked you out of the kitchen, and now, I am on the couch because you managed to un-do all the fucking progress her and I have made in a matter of 5 minutes, because she was up till 3 am crying in her bathroom, she won't let me touch her, she won't look at me, and she told me she didn't want me to sleep in her bed and I wasn't going to bother Jord and Marty. So, do you want me to lay you the fuck out now, or when everyone is down here."

And then there were more footsteps.

But it was not coming from the stairs.

It was coming from the kitchen.

What I wasn't expecting was for Bryant to be walking in to the living room.

Micha just stood up off the couch and started backing away.

"I was drunk." He held his hands out.

"Oh, oh no." Bryant shook his head. "Lacey called me, because she's scared for YOUR life right now, but knows that if Brady walks down here and see's that it got handled, that he will back down. So, what's it going to be, me or the one who boxes and can command a dog to kill you, because that's what it looks like he's going to do. And I'm sure you'd rather have me than the one who was forced to sleep on a couch last night because ONCE AGAIN, you decided to mention his fuck ups!"