The Search For Shattered Pieces *Complete*

Chapter Five: Three Rotations Backwards Left

Trenton:

"Hey, babe, turn off the light..." I groan, as I roll to my side and reach for her.  My arm finds empty space and my eyes shoot open. "Damn it." I sit up and stretch.  I'm feeling surprisingly well, considering I pretty much drank the bar out of business last night.  Now, where is my silken haired angel.  And hell, she really was an angel, she pretty much saved my life...well, she spared me from a fucking awful morning at least.  I know I didn't dream it either.
I look to my right, and yup, sure enough there is an empty tea cup on the night table. I smile.  Hell.  Maybe she's cooking me breakfast.  Fuck, if she can cook too, that settles it, I'll pledge my undying love and propose to her on the spot.  I guffaw and run my hand over my face, suddenly frowning...what the hell? I look around, eyes narrowing.  Okay, seriously, what the fuck? This is not my room. How the fuck did I end up in the guest room? Did we move from my room and fuck in here too? No.  I would have remembered that...I mean, hell, I definitely would have remembered that...right?
    "Ran out of places in your room so you had to move on?"
    I groan and cover my eyes with my hand before turning to the door where Zachariah is standing leaning against the doorframe a frown on his face.
    "Seriously dude, fuck off. It's too early for your shit." I want my dark haired angel. I do not want my surly older brother. I drank like I had no liver last night, was greeted by the sweetest smelling, softest skinned angel ever...an angel who brought me a miracle drink that saved my ass—an angel I should be waking up to.  Sleepy morning sex is awesome.  Instead, I'm somehow waking up in the fucking guest room, and I'm staring at my brother's disapproving face. Fuck.  I swing my legs over the side of the bed and scrub my hands over my face again.  "Listen, where is she?"
"Who?"
"My gift." Jesus, Trent, pull it together.  "I mean, the girl..."
"You mean Lyra?" Zach asks.
I blink.  "You know her name?"
Zach's angry expression darkens further.  "You mean you don't?"
I hear everything he's not saying.  You total tool.  You spent the entire night fucking a girl that you didn't even bother to ask her name.  But that's not right.  I vaguely remember her telling me her name...she did tell me her name, I think? Fuck.  I wish my memory wasn't so fucking fuzzy.  I have no headache.  I'm not dizzy—well, not too dizzy, and I don't feel like I'm going to hurl, all big pluses in my book—but I'd trade it all to remember last night and her.
"Hell, just how much did you drink last night, Trent?" Zach suddenly asks me.  There is no censure in his voice this time, just concern.  That's my big bro for you.  He's a pain in my fucking ass, in fact, they both are—Zach and Xav—but we were brothers, and they'd lay down their lives for us, Tal and myself.  I was lucky to call them my brothers—usually.
I sigh and scrub my hand over my gritty eyes once again.  "I think I lost track after the 10th or so shot...but no worries, Tal and I started the night off, slow." I grimace, "what I mean, is we didn't get to the shots until after Audriana arrived and—"
"Fuck!" Zach explodes.  "Tell me that bitch wasn't there, wasn't around  Tal last night." Zach is no longer leaning against the doorframe.  He's now stiff and straight, and looks ready to commit murder."
"Sorry, wish I could tell you different.  But yeah, the wicked bitch of the West was there...and in rare form last night with her fucking plastic posse."
"God..." Zach takes a few steps into the room.  "What the fuck, Trent, you left him there?  I didn't see Tal this morning, so I'm assuming you left him there.  What the hell? You know better."
I hold up my hand.  "Hey, hey, slow down.  Listen, Tal is fine.  I left him ass deep in tits and ass," I laugh but it's a dry laugh.  "Trust me...he needed it after seeing her."
"That is NOT the answer." Zach says growling.
My eyebrow raises.  "Oh? And what would you propose, big bro? What would your solution be? Tell him to hit the office, put in 200 hours and bury his ass in work and oh, fuck an intern or two? Oh, wait, we aren't the good little business clones like dad was, we're the fuck ups," I can't keep the bitterness from my voice, and I know it.
"Jesus, Trent, Xav and I don't think—"
"—Yeah, yeah, spare me." I stand up and cast my eyes around the unfamiliar room once more.  "I'm gonna grab a shower, I'll see you...later, maybe, if you stick around." I walk past Zach, my mind a jumble of mixed up thoughts, at the top of them—my dark haired angel.